


Repeating Past Mistakes

by Ice_Elf



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Torchwood
Genre: AU, Children of Earth fix it fic, M/M, Other, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Elf/pseuds/Ice_Elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto Jones arrived in America determined to put the past, and Captain Jack Harkness, firmly behind him, and with a promise to avoid fraternisation in the workplace. But promises like that are made to be broken and the past can never really be forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repeating Past Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that some of you might be unfamiliar with one or the other of the fandoms involved in this fic. In case you are in this situation I would direct you to the Wikipedia pages for Tony Stark, Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, and Torchwood. However, I don’t feel that you need to be overly familiar with both fandoms to enjoy this fic, 
> 
> I’d also like to point out that while this fic is set in America, it is told from the point of view of Ianto Jones, who is very Welsh and would never dream of using American English. I have tried my best to ensure that Tony uses correct terms in his speech, but the bulk of this has been written in British English.
> 
> Many, many thanks go to black_crystal_dragon who betad this for me.

Ianto lifted a hand to activate the Bluetooth speaker at his ear. “Sir, that was the board of directors again. If you do not wish to annoy them, then I suggest that you put some clothes on and meet with them.”

“Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” 

“While I appreciate the sight, I’m not sure that the directors would agree.” Ianto answered without thinking. It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did a dark blush settled on his cheeks. He’d blown it now, and the silence that came over the comm. unit confirmed that he would have to beg for his job.

He had forgotten who he was talking to, had forgotten that what had been suitable before, with his last boss, would not be suitable with another. The conversation had been so familiar, he had forgotten who he was speaking to. 

“Why, Jones,” his boss sounded delighted and Ianto’s blush deepened. Perhaps he had not lost his job just yet, but he was dangerously close to losing his resolve to never fraternise in the workplace again. Twice he had done that and twice it had turned out badly for him. “If I’d known you were interested I’d have tried seducing you ages ago.”

The bedroom door opened and Tony Stark stepped through the door. He was fully dressed – thank God! – but for his tie, which dangled around his neck unknotted. Ianto watched him stalk across the room towards him, wishing that he wasn’t blocked in by kitchen cupboards. Stark stopped in front of him, far closer than politeness would allow and plucked the mug of coffee from Ianto’s unresisting fingers. He took a big draught and then placed the cup on the counter.

“I seem to be having a little trouble with my tie. Think you can fix that?”

Ianto rolled his eyes and reached for the ends of Stark’s tie, beginning to loop it into a perfect Windsor knot. He shouldn’t have been surprised when hands were placed on his arse, and each cheek received a short, sharp squeeze, but the motion was new, and Ianto had become... unused to dealing with _harassment_ in the workplace. 

“All done, Mr. Stark,” Ianto let the tie slide from his fingers. “Now, if you’ll release me, I can call for the car.”

“Why don’t you not call for the car and I’ll drive us to the meeting.” Stark raised his eyebrows and flashed Ianto a grin. “I’ve seen you admiring my Aston Martin. Want to take a ride?”

Ianto raised an eyebrow, trying not to rise to the baited comment. He couldn’t prevent the excited glint in his eye, however, and he hoped that Stark didn’t take it to mean something it didn’t.

“If you insist,” he stated, trying to sound as bored as possible.

It didn’t really work, but at least he didn’t sound like an excited teenager. Ianto straightened his own tie and his suit jacket, then picked up his PDA from the counter and nodded in the direction of the garage.

“Lead the way, Sir.”

Stark took a step backwards, his grin widening. “I do like it when you call me ‘Sir’, Jones.”

He winked, and then turned on his heel, hurrying in the direction of the garage. Ianto hung back for a moment, schooling his face into a bland expression. It seemed that today was a day for slips of the tongue, and he would have to try harder to ensure there were no more. 

Really, it wasn’t his fault. Tony and Jack – and even thinking his name was painful – were both so very similar in some respects that it was easy to forget: to lose himself in memories and believe that he was still back in Cardiff, working for Torchwood and in some kind of convoluted relationship with Captain Jack Harkness. He wasn’t though. That life was over, had been over for two months now and he was happy here, in L.A., working for Stark Industries and staying alive. 

“I’m going to go without out you, Jones.” 

Stark’s voice came from his earpiece again, and Ianto rolled his eyes, barely holding back a chuckle. They both knew that was a lie – Stark would not be able to manage more than a hour alone, and Ianto privately thought that he’d be in trouble before then. After all, Ianto had only been in L.A. two days when Tony Stark had approached him and offered him a job. 

Ianto had been aware that something had occurred in L.A. even before he had landed, and of course he had heard of Stark, and his equally famous alter-ego. He had never imagined meeting the man, though, much less being offered a job as the man’s personal assistant. Stark had refused to answer his questions about his predecessor, but from the company gossip he had gathered that her abrupt departure had a lot to do with her personal feelings towards her employer. 

Ianto understood that. More than that, he understood all the trials and tribulations that came with loving a man like Stark. A man who was handsome and charismatic and a superhero besides, who faced death on a regular basis and came out on top every time.

“I’m on my way,” he said into his earpiece. Sliding his PDA into his jacket pocket he followed Stark in the direction of the garage. 

Yes, he understood how easy it was to fall in love with a man like that. He’d done it once already, and he suspected that, given time, he could fall prey to Stark’s charms too.

*

A week later and Stark’s flirting showed no sign of abating. In fact, it had only increased and Ianto was beginning to feel that his move to America was a clear cut case of out of the frying pan and into the fire. Ianto had only just left one relationship because he had never been certain of his place in his partner’s life. He didn’t want to replace Jack with another set of complications, especially not just to become another notch on Stark’s bedpost. It was incredibly clear that Stark wanted something though, and Ianto wasn’t entirely certain that he didn’t. Tony Stark was good-looking, intelligent and arrogant – exactly the sort of man Ianto could fall head over heels for – and he was certain that if he allowed Stark into his bed he would end up worming his way infuriatingly into his heart.

And that had ended so spectacularly well last time, hadn’t it?

Stark had been on top form this morning, and by lunch time Ianto had no longer been able to cope. Faced with a choice of kissing Stark senseless or removing himself from his presence, Ianto had chosen the latter. Now, standing in a queue at the bank he wished that he had held out a little longer, if only to avoid the lunchtime rush. Tapping his foot against the tiles he tilted his head back and gazed up at the ceiling. The babble of voices around him blended into one, the clicking of ladies’ heels against the tiles just distinguishable from the other noises that filled the bank. He shuffled forward, moving with the queue, and then the doors swung open. 

A series of shots were fired into the air and Ianto turned to see two armed and masked men running across the hall. He grabbed the arm of the woman in front of him and dove to the floor as the gunmen fired another hail of bullets into the air. 

The other customers had followed his lead and the cashiers had disappeared from behind the glass windows. Ianto took a moment to glance over at the gunmen. Although he couldn’t see their faces, he could tell that they were nervous and clearly had little experience with their weapons. 

As one of them approached the cash desk, Ianto pushed himself up onto his knees. Immediately, one of the weapons was turned on him and Ianto found himself regretting that he no longer had a licence to carry a concealed weapon. He would have felt much more confident about what he was about to do if he were armed.

He raised his hands slowly, trying to ensure that he posed as little threat as possible. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “You should put the weapons down and run.”

“Shut up and get on the floor,” the gunmen took a step forward and Ianto found himself staring down the barrel of his gun. He swallowed, trying not to let his fear show on his face. The gunman was terrified: anyone could see the way his hand shook as it gripped the weapon and his eyes were wide and desperate. Ianto suspected that he had never done anything like this before, that he had been cajoled into it by one of the others.

“Just put the weapon down,” Ianto repeated. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, and if you stop now then they might give you a lighter sentence.”

“They’re not going to catch us,” the man snapped. “We’ll be out of here before the police even get here.”

His grip on the gun wavered, though, and Ianto suspected that he was getting somewhere. He jerked his head in the direction of the second man who was still threatening the cashiers.

“He might, but I bet he’s not planning on taking you with him. He’ll get out of here and leave you to take the rap.”

“Shut the fuck up,” the man snapped, Ianto saw the gun swinging through the air towards him and squeezed his eyes shut. Pain exploded in his head as the heavy metal struck him across the face and he slumped to the side, sprawling on the tiled floor. He heard screams around him, and opened his eyes blearily. The world was spinning, and the side of his face was throbbing. He tried to push himself up, but another burst of pain stabbed at his side and he slumped down, dimly registering that the gunman had just booted him in the ribs. 

“Stay on the fucking ground, or I’ll kill you.”

“No you won’t. You’d have done it already.”

Ianto winced, realising what he had just said. He wanted to attribute it to the blaring pain in his head, but he couldn’t. Not entirely, anyway. His mother and, later, Jack had told him that his smart mouth would get him into trouble one day, and they had both been right. Don’t antagonise the enemy with the weapon, Jack had warned him, and how right he’d been.

There was a click and Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain that would precede the blackness. 

The bang echoed through the room, and Ianto’s ears rang as hot metal scattered around him. There was no pain though, and no blackness except for that behind his closed eyes. Slowly, he opened them, lifting his head as he turned to glance over his shoulder. There, before the door, was a large figure: a man in a metal suit of red and gold, a light glowing in the centre of his chest and behind his eyes. The explosion had been the gunman’s weapon, blasted by one of the figure’s cannons.

Ianto breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as his gaze flitted to the stunned gunman and back to the figure – Stark, because Iron Man’s secret identity was completely non-existent. 

“You people should know by now: I don’t like people targeting my employees.”

There was a noise as the second gunman turned from the counter, raising his gun to fire a clip of bullets at Stark. They rattled, ineffective, off his armoured suit and Ianto bit his lip to stop himself from grinning. He pushed himself to his knees and watched as both men ran out of bullets. 

Behind Stark, Ianto could see the blue flashing lights that signified the arrival of the police. The gunmen could too, for their guns clattered against the ground and they bolted. Stark let them go, stepping aside as they darted past him into the broad daylight. Clearly, they had chosen to take their chances with the cops rather than a pissed off Iron Man. 

And really, Ianto could hardly blame them. He turned back towards Stark, saw the impassive mask turn towards him and felt a shiver ripple through his body. The tiles reverberated as Stark moved towards him, coming to a halt before him and holding out a hand to help him to his feet.

Ianto took it, hauling himself upright and trying to keep the twinge of pain from showing on his face. He brushed the dust from his suit and raised one eyebrow in Stark’s direction. “I don’t know why you insisted on the dramatics. I had everything under control.”

Stark’s mask slid upwards to reveal his face, stony and impassive, and Ianto knew that he was not impressed by his attempt at heroics. 

“Yeah, because that’s exactly what it looked like. Are you hurt?”

Ianto scowled, shaking his head in response to Stark’s comment. He certainly didn’t need reminding of how pathetic he’d been – he’d seen Jack talk down aliens enough times to think that he ought to be able to deal with a couple of amateur, human bank robbers. There was no chance that he was going to reveal how much his cheek was still throbbing, or that he was positive that he’d earned himself a few bruised ribs.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, “But I think I ought to be getting back to work. Excuse me.”

He brushed past Stark, or tried to, because before he had taken a step the heavy metal glove descended on his shoulder. It was impossible to avoid flinching. The hand sent shockwaves down his side, jarring his bruised ribs. 

“Take the rest of the day off,” Stark said, removing his hand from Ianto’s shoulder. “I think you deserve it. I can cope without you for a few hours.”

Ianto raised his eyebrows but he didn’t argue. If he was being entirely truthful he was rather relieved to have been offered the chance to go home and relax. He didn’t think that he could stand an afternoon pretending that his ribs were aching, or trying to avoid the questions and gossip that would arise when people heard what he had done. 

He nodded, and replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

This time, Stark let him go and he strode out of the back and into the car. Only then, safe behind the screen in one of Stark’s limousines, did he sink back into his seat and let his eyes slide shut. A ragged sigh burst from parted lips and then, he smiled. 

God, but he had missed the action.

*

“So, Jones, did you miss me?”

Ianto jerked upright, dropping the bag of peas back into the freezer drawer. He slammed the door and spun around, wincing as he saw Stark standing in the entryway. Ianto’s eyes darted to his wrist, checking the time on his watch. It was early, far too early for Stark to be home – Ianto hadn’t expected him for at least another three hours. He racked his brain for a reason as to why he was raiding his boss’s freezer at half past seven in the evening. Stark had sent him home and he probably wouldn’t be pleased to find Ianto disobeying his orders. He certainly didn’t sound pleased. 

“I have a to-do list a foot long,” Ianto said, turning away and heading to the coffee machine.  
“I thought it was more practical to make some headway into it. I didn’t expect you back so early. Didn’t you have that film premiere tonight?”

Footsteps clicked against the floor as Stark approached, and Ianto’s hands stilled on the controls. His gaze shifted, focussing on the shiny surface of the coffee machine, where he could see Stark standing just a few feet behind him and watching. Ianto could feel Stark’s gaze burning into the back of his head, and the intensity of it made him want to turn on his heel and run. 

Run or do something infinitely more foolish.

“I blew it off. What’s the point of being in charge if you can’t break the rules?” Tony said, clapping a hand on Ianto’s shoulder.

It was no harder than on previous occasions, but the sudden jolt sent a reverberation down Ianto’s body and he bit back a gasp as his ribs reminded him of his recent injuries. Tony’s hand slid down to grip his arm and Ianto felt himself being turned, slowly but firmly until he was staring straight into Stark’s eyes.

Stark brushed his fingers over the vivid blue-black bruise on Ianto’s jaw, pulling his hand back when Ianto hissed. “Sorry, but you told me that you weren’t hurt.” He arched an eyebrow. “Any more lies you wish to correct? How about the ones about where you worked before I found you? A coffee shop, wasn’t it?”

Ianto’s eyes narrowed. “You already know, don’t you?”

Stark nodded. “You’re forgetting I’m a genius with billions of dollars at my disposal. I’ve known about Torchwood for years. I’ve known about you for years, Jones. Why else did you think I head-hunted you?”

For a moment, all Ianto could do was stare blankly at Stark. Then, he grinned and shook his head. Of course Stark knew about Torchwood, he wasn’t sure why he had ever thought otherwise. Stark knew a lot of things that he shouldn’t, why should Torchwood escape his scrutiny? Moving onto the next part of Tony’s statement, Ianto smiled. It gave him a deep thrill to know that he’d been specifically chosen for this role.

“I don’t know,” he said, “Why did you head-hunt me?”

“Your personnel report was glowing.” Stark replied, stepping a little closer into Ianto’s personal space. “Eidetic memory, superb organisational skills, cool in a crisis, and makes the world’s best coffee. Also, you should see the photo on there. When I saw you were a free agent, I didn’t really have a choice. Never thought you’d actually accept my job offer though, and I never thought that you’d stick around so long either.”

He paused, his thumb brushing over Ianto’s cheek, coming to rest at the corner of his mouth.

Ianto’s eyes flickered across Stark’s face, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He was impressed, and more than a little flattered, that Tony had sought him out based on his talents. Being appreciated was a good feeling, and one he had experienced very little in his last few months at Torchwood. “Why not?” 

Stark shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. You’re working for me now and I’m going to make sure that you’re treated so well that you never want to leave.”

He stepped away, and Ianto found himself strangely bereft. It had been so long – so very long – and he was craving contact, so much so that he was willing to ignore every reservation he still had and kiss Tony then and there. 

“Shirt off,” Stark said, and Ianto’s eyes flew wide, mouth hanging open as he tried to think of something to say to such a blatant proposition. 

Stark chuckled, and Ianto glanced to him in confusion. 

“Believe it or not,” Stark said, “I’m not trying to seduce you this time. I just want to look at your injuries. Are you going to let me or not?”

He gave Ianto his best stern look and turned away, heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the bathroom. After hesitating for a moment, Ianto decided to comply with his instructions, unbuttoning his shirt from top to bottom and pushing it apart. Even he had to wince at the state of the bruising that covered the left side of his chest. He pressed his fingers against his ribs, intent on checking for breaks or fractures, and immediately ripped his hand away with a yelp. 

“Don’t.” Stark was at his side again, placing a first aid kit on the cupboard and flipping it open. He pulled out a small bottle of lotion and unscrewed the lid. “Just hold your shirt out of the way while I admire the view.”

Ianto smiled, doing just as he had been asked. He twisted to one side, allowing Stark better access to his bruised ribs. It was hard to ignore Stark when he was so close, and when his eyes were fixed upon his bare chest, his hands pressing against him and rubbing the cooling lotion into the bruised flesh. No matter how many times it happened, Ianto didn’t think he’d ever get used to being looked after, or treated with such concern. It was usually him looking after others, and he often forgot just how nice it was to have someone take care of him.

“There’s probably nothing broken.” Stark’s voice startled Ianto out of his thoughts. “Just a few bruises – you were lucky this time. Next time... just wait for me, alright? I don’t think I could find another P.A. even half as good as you.”

Ianto turned, pushed himself forward, away from the cupboard, hands grasping at Stark’s – no, Tony’s shirt as he pulled him into a kiss. It was fierce, tongues twining and teeth clicking. It felt different, the brush of hair and a fine stubble against Ianto’s skin, rough hands on the back of his neck, dragging him closer – pulling him downwards, and that was another surprise, never having really considered how much taller than Tony he was – until he was pressed flush against a firm chest, caught between Tony and the cupboard. 

It was different, so very different but that didn’t mean that it was bad. In fact, Ianto found himself thinking that it was very, very good. It had been so long since he’d kissed anyone and had it returned with such fervour and... _interest_. He could feel his body reacting to this unexpected connection, the blood rushing south and his cock hardening – and he knew that his was not the only one. 

Dragging his mouth away, Ianto broke the kiss and glanced up at Tony. “I shouldn’t...” he murmured. “This is... inappropriate.” 

Tony chuckled, and leant in closer, lips brushing against Ianto’s ear. “Appropriate is boring,” he muttered, lowering his head to press a kiss to the juncture between neck and jaw. “Besides,” he added, flicking his tongue over the shell of Ianto’s ear. “I’m not interested in anything complicated, Jones.”

It felt wrong, to be called that now of all times, so distant and impersonal in the middle of such an intimate moment, but the thought was almost driven from his mind, Tony’s breath was warm against his hyper-sensitive skin. It sent a shiver running down Ianto’s spine and he turned his head to press his lips against Tony’s. They parted, slowly, lazily, and Ianto surged forward once more, pushed his tongue deeper into Tony’s mouth, drawing out a deep carnal groan. His hands tightened on Tony’s hips, fingers scrabbling, pushing up his shirt in a quest for skin. 

He pulled back, ignoring the moan of protest and continued to press kisses along Tony’s jawline, up to his ear where his tongue caressed the lobe, drawing it into his mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

“Me neither,” he replied. “But would it complicate things too much if you were to call me _Ianto_?”

“Ianto,” Tony breathed, and Ianto’s hands stilled, tightened almost imperceptibly on his hips. The accent was so familiar, and yet not so and he hated himself for thinking of Jack here and now. He pushed the Captain from his mind, closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to a spot just behind Tony’s ear. 

“Ianto,” Tony repeated, turning his head and capturing Ianto’s mouth in a brief kiss. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a really kissable mouth?”

Ianto smirked against Tony’s lips, sucking the lower lip between his teeth and nipping gently. “That’s not the only thing it’s good for either.” 

Tony laughed, a soft huff of breath that brushed against Ianto’s cheek, “You’ve been holding out on me, Ianto Jones,” he muttered, “I never realised what a filthy boy you are.”

A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes. Ianto liked it, liked being a figure of surprise. The chase was the exciting thing about any relationship: the process of slowly unwrapping the other person layer by layer until you finally knew who they were. That was what Ianto liked, and he tried to be just as intriguing to his lovers as they were to him. 

He pushed his tongue into Tony’s mouth, fingers splaying against bare skin, buried beneath the fine cotton shirt. They flexed, nails digging into flesh and Tony groaned aloud, pressing his hips forward, his erection brushing against Ianto’s own. Ianto braced himself against Tony’s chest and took a step forward. Relying on memory and the occasional glimpse of the room beyond, he steered them both out of the kitchen and through into the lounge. 

Eventually, Tony’s knees buckled against the couch and he sank down. Ianto went down with him, never breaking the kiss until he was on his knees. He did pull back then, raising his eye brows at Tony before raising his hands to unbutton his shirt. 

His fingers brushed over the hairless skin, tracing the outline of the arc reactor and peering at it curiously. Of course, he had seen it before, but he had never paid close attention to it, too busy trying not to be caught staring at Tony’s chest. He looked now, studying the metal casing and the bright light before chasing a thousand questions from his mind and pressing a kiss to the skin just above it. 

Pressing a smattering of kisses across Tony’s collarbone, Ianto left a lingering one against Tony’s Adam’s apple before letting his mouth slide lower until it closed around one erect nipple. He flicked his tongue against it, sliding it around the edge until Tony moaned. Ianto glanced up, smirking as he saw that Tony’s head was thrown back against the sofa, his hand bunched in one of the cushions that lay beside him.

He continued his passage down, his fingers freeing Tony’s trouser button and sliding the zip open without the need for sight. He pressed his lips against the considerable bulge in Tony’s underwear, and then raised his eyes and tapped Tony’s thigh.

“Lift up,” he demanded, and Tony obliged, lifting his hips, rolling them forward so that Ianto could hook his fingers beneath the waistband of Tony’s trousers and his boxers and ease his cock free. 

Ianto lowered his head and slid his lips over the head of Tony’s cock, flicking his tongue to wash away the pre-come that had gathered there. Then, slowly, with his eyes raised to take in Tony’s reaction, he pulled back, releasing the erection with a soft pop. He licked a stripe along the large vein in Tony’s cock, down to the base, and Tony’s low groan increased in volume. 

“You really do have a talented mouth,” he muttered, his voice breathy. 

Ianto responded by opening his throat and taking Tony in his mouth. The strained gasp from above told him that he had once again surprised his boss. It had been a long time since he had given head, but it was a skill that one never forgot – and an experience that was not easily replicated. He took a moment to relish the sensation of a cock in his mouth, the heavy weight against his tongue, the tip pressed against the back of his throat. Then he began to slide his lips up and down Tony’s cock, teasing it with lips and tongue and the occasional scrape of teeth against flesh. 

Tony’s lips were parted, and small gasps and moans were coming from deep in his throat. Some of them were barely distinguishable as words, and of those, Ianto could pick out one that was repeated more than the others: his name. 

A hand was on the back of his head, Tony’s fingers buried in Ianto’s hair, guiding his head as he sucked him. One of Ianto’s own hands was clenched around Tony’s hip, while the other dug beneath his own belt, fondling his own cock. 

He thrust his hips forward, palming his cock and running his thumb across the head, slicking it with pre-come. Already, he was close to the edge. The simple pleasure of being so close to someone else, to have their pleasure unfolding in his hands – or rather his mouth - was a joy he had refused himself for far too long. He couldn’t understand why when it was so good. 

Ianto let Tony’s cock fall from between his lips, ignoring Tony’s faint moan, and crawled up his body to press a kiss to his mouth. The moan was quickly swallowed, Ianto’s tongue twining with Tony’s, and removing the need for any sound. 

“I want you to take me to bed, Mr.Stark,” he murmured against Tony’s lips. “I want you to take me to bed and show me exactly what you’re made of.”

Tony’s lips curved into a smile.

“I’m a busy man, you’re going to have to take it up with my PA,” he teased.

Ianto smirked back. “He says that you have a very pressing appointment right about now.” He ground his hips against Tony’s to make his point perfectly clear. “And that he would be very cross if you were to miss it.”

Tony chuckled, a breathy laugh that caressed Ianto’s cheek. “Would he now? I believe I’m almost tempted.” His fingers twined through Ianto’s and he nodded in the direction of the bedroom. “Lead the way, Ianto.”

Ianto pushed himself away from Tony and rose to his feet, not once releasing his grip on the hand enclosed in his. He allowed Tony to lead the way to the bedroom, realising as he did so that he was relinquishing all the control he had previously exerted. It wasn’t a problem; in fact, Ianto was a little relieved. It had been a long time since he had a new partner and, even then, his experience with men was limited to one very unusual case – one that was unlikely to ever be repeated. One that Ianto had thought was completely unique. Before he had come here, he had been certain that his attraction to men would be impossible to be replicated: better described as an attraction to Jack alone. At first, Ianto had been certain that he had only been attracted to Tony because of the similarities between the two men, but now he was starting to have his doubts. 

It probably didn’t matter anyway, Tony didn’t seem to care, and neither had Jack. Perhaps it was better to just let this happen and worry about the quaint little categories later.

Tony pushed the bedroom door open and stepped inside, turning to press his lips to Ianto’s, sliding his arms around his waist. Ianto knew that Tony was reaching for his arse even before his hands landed there, fingers pinching the firm muscle. Ianto brushed his tongue against Tony’s and teased his lower lip with his teeth, stumbling slightly as they approached the bed. 

Ianto had been in Tony’s room before, but never for anything other than to collect his dirty coffee mugs and to chase out the girls who had spent the night. That hadn’t happened as often of late; Tony had clearly been more subtle about his liaisons. Ianto suspected that it was because he was trying to impress him, and perhaps it would have worked if Ianto had been anyone else but, as it was, Tony had not been quite subtle enough. 

None of that mattered now, Ianto realised, as he sank back onto the bed. It had always looked comfortable, but now Ianto realised how right he had been. The mattress moulded perfectly to his body and the sheets – the sheets were fine cotton. He curled his fingers into them, watching as Tony straddled his waist and leant over him to press a kiss into the hollow of his throat. 

“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” he remarked, tracing his fingers through the tangled curls on Ianto’s chest. He drew his thumb around one nipple, flicking it across the top before lowering his head and tracing the other with his tongue. 

Ianto could feel hands scrabbling at his waist and then Tony sat upright, sliding his belt through the loops in one slick movement. He tossed it over his shoulder and shrugged off his own shirt, letting it pool on the floor beside the bed. Slowly, Tony lowered his head again, placing his lips against the dark bruise that was blossoming across Ianto’s side. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Ianto murmured, sensing Tony’s sudden reserve. The last thing he wanted was for anything to stop now. Truthfully, the bruising was no longer hurting as it had before. It was nothing compared to the desperate craving for release – for Tony. He felt Tony bend down and press a kiss to the edge of the bruise before lifting his head again and unfastening Ianto’s trousers. 

“Off,” he commanded, swatting gently at Ianto’s arse. Ianto wriggled his hips instantly and shoved his pants down.

“You’ll have to get off me, first,” he said, bucking his hips up and brushing his groin against Tony’s. Tony bit back a groan and backed away, kicking his own pants off as he did so. Ianto pushed himself along the bed, resting his head on the pillows and sprawling across the covers. Tony was watching intently, his eyes shining with lust 

He advanced on him slowly, climbing onto the bed and straddling him once more. Then, Tony began to rock back and forth, letting their erections slide against one another. He leant down, then, drawing him into a kiss, his hand pressed firmly against the covers, saving Ianto’s ribs from any unnecessary pressure. It was a simple thing but one that brought a smile to Ianto’s lips and a renewed fervour to his kiss. He bucked his hips up, increasing the friction until he could no longer bear it – he pressed a hand to Tony’s chest and turned his head to one side. 

“Stop,” he murmured. “This isn’t enough – I want...”

He didn’t get to tell Tony what he wanted before the man silenced him with a kiss. The friction did cease though, and when the kiss ended, Tony rolled to one side, and opened one of the bedside drawers. 

When he rolled back it was with a small bottle of lube and a shiny foil wrapper in his hand. Ianto hurried to spread his legs wider, allowing Tony to settle between them. Tony leered as he sat back, tearing open the foil and rolling the condom over his erection. Then, unscrewing the bottle cap he tipped it up, allowing the liquid to pool in the palm of his hand. Ianto slid his tongue across his lips, watching as Tony rubbed his hands together, coating his fingers in the liquid before sliding them along his cock. 

Tony’s fingers ran along Ianto’s cock, cupping his balls in the palm of one hand. His other hand slid further down and Ianto gasped as a finger pressed up against his entrance. Tony’s finger flicked over his hole, not yet breaching it but pressing hard enough to show his intent. A moment later, Tony’s eyes locked with Ianto’s. Ianto could sense the question in them, and he nodded, just once, enough to show that he was willing. And, God, he was willing. 

Tony pushed his finger deep inside of him, crooking it so that the tip brushed against Ianto’s prostate. Ianto moaned, bucking his hips up at the contact, his head falling back into the pillows. His hands clutched at the cotton sheets, bunching the fine cloth between his fingers, his eyes sliding closed. Another finger joined the first, and they scissored inside him, and then once more before being withdrawn. Ianto let out a low cry, bereft, craving the sensation of something – someone – inside of him and then Tony’s hands were on his thighs, pushing them further apart. Ianto could feel a cock pressed against his opening, the head just breaching him. Ianto sucked in a sharp breath, and then Tony was filling him completely. 

“Oh God,” Ianto breathed, opening his eyes and turning them to meet Tony’s. They were bright and glassy, filled with lust and exhilaration. Tony leant down, capturing Ianto’s mouth in a deep kiss. A moan dragged from deep in his throat spilled from his lips and he leant up, refusing to break the kiss. 

Tony was buried balls-deep inside him, thrusting his hips forward and setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. His hand was wrapped tight around Ianto’s cock, pumping it in time with every thrust, stroking the hardened flesh, flicking his thumb over the head, pausing occasionally to fondle his balls.

He was close, so close, and Ianto knew that he would not last much longer. The sweet oblivion of release was calling to him - but he was unsure whether or not he wished to surrender to it just yet. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to Tony’s throat, sucking at the pulse point. Tony’s hand twisted around his cock and he gasped, his vision whiting out as his climax rippled through him. He felt his back arch from the bed, his lips parting in a muffled cry that he thought might have been Tony’s name. Through it all, he was aware of Tony, still thrusting into him, his hand still stroking his cock, his breath ragged, occasionally interceded with curses and indecipherable mumbling. 

Then he too stiffened, a louder cry spilling from his lips and his head fell forward, resting against Ianto’s shoulder, his own orgasm rushing through him. For a moment, they lay like that, neither one willing to move. Then Tony pushed himself off Ianto, slipping out of him and lying on the bed beside him. He showed no sign of moving, so after a moment Ianto did. He sat up and reached for the box of tissues on the bedside cabinet, using them to clean first himself and then passing them to Tony and beginning to slide from the bed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Tony reached out, catching hold of his hand and pulling him back towards the bed. “You don’t have to go,” he murmured, pulling back the covers and gesturing to the empty space in the bed. 

Ianto glanced to the bed, then back up at Tony. When he didn’t answer, Tony continued, “it doesn’t have to mean anything – but it would be so much easier to go another round if you did stay.”

Ianto smiled. Tony did have a point, and Ianto couldn’t deny that it was a good one. Still, it wasn’t healthy to be so presumptuous. He raised his eyebrows. “And who says there’ll be another round?”

“Me,” replied Tony. “And I think you’ll come to the same conclusion very soon. You might as well stop denying the inevitable and admit that you’re hooked on me, Ianto Jones.”

Rolling his eyes at Tony’s self-confidence, Ianto stepped closer to the bed. He leant closer, pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips, lowering his voice to a murmur as he replied, “Oh no, Mr. Stark. I think it’s you who can’t get enough of me.”

*

A few weeks later, Ianto’s world was turned upside down once more.

The last few hours had been hectic enough as it were, what with every child in the USA – no, the world – coming to a standstill at once, and the chanting that had sent all those parents who weren’t already clamouring for help into a frenzy. It had been the sort of emergency that called for Iron Man, and Tony had been out in the city all day, keeping an eye on things and being a calming presence in the city. It had fallen to Ianto to ensure that Stark Industries kept on running, and that was with one half of the staff ‘off-sick’ and the other half frantic with worry over some child in their life. 

Finally, he managed to drag himself away from his desk and back to Tony’s house. It was empty: clearly Iron Man was still needed somewhere, but Ianto didn’t balk at his absence, sinking down onto the sofa, toeing off his shoes and flicking on the TV set. He would just be in time for the news. 

The picture flashed up and Ianto shot bolt upright, staring at the television screen. He brought a hand up to his mouth, unable to believe what he was watching. Normally, an event like this would have been paid little attention by the American media, but with every eye on the United Kingdom it was impossible for an explosion of such a magnitude to be ignored. Roald Dahl Plass had been reduced to a huge crater with emergency workers crawling everywhere. The newscaster was explaining that there had been a gas leak but Ianto knew better than to believe that. He scanned the crowds, heart in mouth, trying to catch a glimpse of Gwen, Jack. God, he would have been happy just to catch a glimpse of the blue wool of Jack’s coat – anything that could tell them that they were alive. 

There were no reported fatalities, the news reader continued, and Ianto clung to that desperately. Of course, no one could be aware of the Hub’s existence, and if Jack and Gwen had perished they would be buried beneath all that rubble. No, not Jack, Ianto realised, running a hand across his face and trying to erase the images of Jack, alive and trapped beneath the rubble, calling for help that would never come. 

The images brought a lump to his throat, and he could not hold in the sob that burst from his lips. His hand flew to his mouth and he hunched his shoulders in, unable to look away from the television screen no matter how much he wanted to. His hand itched for his phone, desperate to dial Jack’s number, or even Gwen’s, because he had never had the heart to delete either of them from his phone book. Just in case, he had always said, just in case something terrible happened and he needed to speak to them again. 

Now something terrible had happened, and Ianto couldn’t bring himself to phone them, couldn’t bear the thought of his call going unanswered. No one could have survived that explosion, and his only hope was that Jack and Gwen hadn’t been inside the Hub when it had been destroyed. The hope wasn’t enough to stop his eyes from burning though, not when he thought of Myfanwy, of Janet and all the other alien guests that had been housed in the Hub. They had stood no chance. 

He didn’t even realise that he wasn’t alone until the sofa sagged beside him and an arm snaked around his waist. Ianto felt himself being tugged against a broad chest and a hand slid into his hair. 

“That’s where it was, your secret base?” 

Ianto turned his head and buried his face in Tony’s shoulder. He breathed in the scent of Tony’s aftershave, closing his eyes and willing away the tears that he couldn’t bear to shed. If he started now, he doubted that he would ever stop. He nodded, wordless, and hoped that Tony could feel the motion and understood that he couldn’t speak right now. 

“Have you heard from them?” 

Ianto shook his head and then glanced up, meeting Tony’s troubled gaze. “I need to call them but I can’t bear to.”

His words came out hoarsely, and he wished that he had stuck to his resolve to remain silent. He wanted to drop everything and get on the next flight to Cardiff, but he knew that he could not. He was needed here to help fight this new crisis. People were panicking, the use of their children making them cry out for a hero. Tony was needed - no, Iron Man was needed - and so Ianto also had his part to play. Here. Not on the other side of the Atlantic. 

Tony held out his own phone, pushing it into Ianto’s hand. “Use this,” he said. “JARVIS will make sure that no one can track it – either back to you or to them.”

Ianto frowned in confusion, his hand closing over the phone, and then Tony’s words sank in. He had assumed that alien technology had been triggered to cause the explosion but he had never stopped to think that the attack had been deliberate. Jack and Gwen might be in hiding, and one phone call might endanger them. Ianto almost threw the phone across the room in horror. In fact, only the knowledge that JARVIS was by far superior to all other computers with the possible exception of Mainframe and the one at 13 Bannerman Road – and neither of them could be considered an enemy. 

He dialled Jack’s number first, keying the numbers in from memory and holding it to his ear. There was a crackle, and Ianto clung a little harder to Tony’s hand. 

_“This number is no longer in service.”_

The dial tone rang out and Ianto ended the call, trying not to think about what that might mean. Jack had either changed his number – and somehow Ianto didn’t think he would do so – or his phone had been obliterated. That meant that Jack had to have been in the Hub when it had exploded.

“Oh God,” he murmured, “Jack...”

He dropped his head forward, covering his eyes with his hand and bit down on his lip. Tony, to his credit, did not react other than to hold onto Ianto’s hand a little tighter.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “I can run a search, find out if he’s still alive?”

Ianto shook his head. “He is,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “Jack is, I mean... he doesn’t stay dead. He comes back, every time.”

He felt a small trace of guilt for revealing Jack’s secret, knowing how closely he kept them, but he trusted Tony. Besides, it wouldn’t be that hard for Tony to find out the truth anyway.

“So I’ve heard,” Tony said. “I wasn’t sure whether to believe it, though. Still, if he was caught in the epicentre - an explosion like that...”

He didn’t add that there would be very little left to come back. Ianto was already thinking it, and his mind was providing a visual in perfect Technicolor. 

“He’ll be alive,” Ianto insisted. Although who really knew if Jack could come back from that? Ianto had never been that keen on discussing the limits of Jack’s immortality. It just... hadn’t seemed like an appropriate topic nor had it been one that either of them liked to dwell on. 

“I’ll phone Gwen,” he decided, chasing all thoughts of Jack from his mind, for now at least. First he had to work out whether or not she had survived the explosion. He dialled her home number, and waited for it to connect. He had no idea whether or not Gwen would be home, but even if he couldn’t reach her then at least Rhys would be able to tell him something. 

And right now, anything would be good. 

“Hello,” It was indeed Rhys who answered, his voice accompanied by a hiss of ‘Jesus Christ, Rhys!’ in the background. Gwen was there, Ianto realised, and she sounded well. Frightened, yes, but alive. 

“Rhys... it’s Ianto,” he managed, his voice cracking as relief flooded him. Gwen was alive, and she probably knew what had happened to Jack. He could hear Gwen and Rhys on the other end of the line talking – about him – and then Gwen was at the other end of the line.

“Ianto – oh my God, Ianto, is that really you? Where are you? Are you OK?”

She sounded tired, and Ianto wasn’t really surprised. If her day had been anything like his then she was undoubtedly exhausted. Had she lost other team members too, Ianto wondered. for he had never had the heart to check whether or not he had been replaced. 

“It’s me, Gwen,” he confirmed. “I’m in America and I’m fine – I saw what happened on the news. Are you alright? What about Jack?”

“Yeah,” Gwen replied, “I’m fine – but Jack...” 

Her hesitation made Ianto’s stomach twist into complicated knots. He sat up a little straighter, preparing himself to hear something terrible.

When Gwen replied, her voice was a little teary, and Ianto clutched Tony for support. “They put a bomb inside him, Ianto,” she whispered.

The bile rose in Ianto’s stomach, and he placed a hand over his mouth, sucking in a breath through his nose in an attempt to quell the nausea. Tony reached out, sliding a hand around his shoulders and holding him a little tighter.

“Fuck,” he breathed, as he took in the full ramifications of Gwen’s words.

Ianto had seen Jack come back from some pretty spectacular deaths but this time – how could he come back from being blown apart? 

“Who, Gwen?” he managed to force out. “Who was it?” God, he’d kill them. Snap their fucking necks with his bare hands if he could, if Jack didn’t come back from this one. He was tempted to anyway, because hadn’t Jack had more than enough suffering?

“I had a run in with one of them. He said he was working for the Government.” 

Ianto shook his head, unable to believe that. Torchwood was meant to be above the Government. How then had they managed to cause such destruction? How then had they been able to move against them, against Jack? “That doesn’t make sense.”

He paused, wondering if JARVIS could hack into the British Government. It was certainly feasible, and he’d be able to find Jack that way too. There wasn’t really time to consider it now: he didn’t know how long Gwen had. He turned his attention to the other question that had been bothering him.

“How did they get it inside him, Gwen?” 

“He was shot and killed at the hospital today,” Gwen replied, a little quieter. “It must have been then.” She paused. “Ianto, are you coming back? We need you. Jack needs you.”

She sounded so small and unlike Gwen that Ianto almost said yes, but then he remembered Tony, and he gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I’m needed here too. I’ll keep in touch though, and do the best I can for you.”

It hurt to turn his back on her, on Jack, when they were asking for his help but he could do nothing else. He would not leave Tony to deal on his own when they were just as busy here. Of course he would do what he could for Gwen and Jack, but it would not be with any intention of returning to Torchwood. He leant into Tony’s embrace, taking comfort in his body heat, and waited for the confrontation that he was sure would come.

It didn’t. Gwen simply sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Rhys has gone to start the car. Stay safe, Ianto.” 

The phone was dead before Ianto even got to tell Gwen the same. He ended the call, hoping that Gwen would take her own advice and not get herself killed. She had always been brilliant, but Ianto was concerned that this time, she and Jack – indeed all of them – were in over their heads. 

“Gwen’s alive,” he told Tony after a moment. “And Jack... she doesn’t know.”

He shook his head, turning to stare at the muted T.V. screen and the footage of Cardiff bay.

Tony’s thumb ran over Ianto’s knuckles. “I could always handle things without you for a day or two, you know?”

Ianto shook his head, turning to press a kiss to Tony’s lips. It was brief, but Ianto hoped that it would reassure him that he wasn’t going to go running back to England and Jack just because Torchwood had called.

“If I leave you alone the world really is going to end,” he teased, although his heart wasn’t really in it. “I’m staying put.”

Tony nodded, rising to his feet and pulling Ianto with him. “But if you do change your mind, you only have to say.” He turned from Ianto, “JARVIS, I want you inside the British Goverment – find anything you can on Captain Jack Harkness - the more recent the better. Pass all the information straight to Ianto.”

“Thank you,” Ianto murmured. Even if the Hub had been destroyed, Mainframe would still be online; her backup systems were kept in a separate location. Torchwood had planned for every eventuality – even one like this – and if Jack and Gwen managed to access the Torchwood system then Ianto would be able to help them remotely. It probably wouldn’t be necessary but it would go some way towards soothing Ianto’s nerves and even if he could not, even if the only thing that arose from JARVIS’s search was that Jack was alive and well, well, that would be enough. 

Tony stepped away, and Ianto sank back onto the sofa and increased the volume. There was still nothing but a huge crater where the plass had once been. The Hub was gone, the archives, the tourist office, Jack’s bunker where he had spent so many nights wrapped around his Captain. He coughed, clearing his throat and rubbed a hand across his eyes in an attempt to stop them burning. 

There would be nothing left of Jack either. Ianto couldn’t shake the thought that this was too much, that this was not something that Jack could come back from. He leant back against the sofa and closed his eyes, taking deep, steadying breaths and trying to rein in his emotions. This was not the way that Captain Jack Harkness should have gone out. 

“Here,” the sofa sagged as Tony sat down beside him. Ianto caught the sharp tang of whisky and his eyes flew open. Bile rose in his throat, and he leapt up from his seat and threw himself across the room in the direction on the bathroom. He only just made it, sinking to his knees before the toilet and emptying the contents of his stomach. He knelt there for a moment, until Tony’s hand landed on his back, gently running the length of his spine. 

“I’m sorry,” Ianto murmured. He pushed himself away from the toilet, sitting on the bathroom tiles and leaning against the wall. “I just...” he swallowed, and squeezed his eyes shut. “We used to drink whisky at the end of a hard day...”

His tongue slid over his lips, collecting up salty tang and he squeezed his eyes a little tighter. His cheeks felt damp but he didn’t care to dry them, knowing that any attempt to do so would prove futile. 

He didn’t tell Tony that it had been Jack’s favourite brand too, that he knew the scent from so many nights of sharing a glass with his Captain. Torchwood had many hard days, and Jack had borne the brunt of many a mission. Ianto had found himself often sitting across from Jack, sharing a glass or two of whisky and knowing that he wouldn’t be going home that night. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, because Tony was still standing there, watching him. “You shouldn’t have to see this.”

He didn’t get up though, couldn’t quite summon up the strength to move. Tony looked as if he hadn’t got a clue what to do or say, and Ianto couldn’t blame him – why would Tony want to watch him fall apart over his ex-lover’s death? 

“Give me a few moments,” he said, “And I’ll be able to deal with whatever it was you wanted. You did want something, right?”

He would not just sit here and grieve; there would be time for that later. The world would keep turning, even if Jack was no longer a part of it, and if it stopped, if it ended then Jack would have died in vain. Whatever else happened, Ianto would not allow that to happen. 

Tony shook his head. “It wasn’t important,” he told Ianto. “I can’t even remember.” 

Ianto nodded and waited for Tony to leave, turning his attention to the pattern of tiles on the bathroom floor. Truly, he did not want to be alone, but if he was going to pull himself together for long enough help to put this whole mess with the children, he was going to need a moment or two. Long enough to convince himself that Jack would be fine, and that he had done the right thing in leaving. It had been the only thing he could have done at the time, and Ianto didn’t regret it – even if he did miss Cardiff – but who knew whether this could have been prevented had he only been there.

Tony didn’t leave immediately. Ianto could sense him lingering. It was as if he knew that there was something he ought to do or say but he couldn’t work out what that something was. Ianto didn’t know what it was either. He had lost so many people, but he still couldn’t decide what he would prefer from Tony. Silence, perhaps, was probably the best solution for them both. 

“Please,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, but echoing on the tiled walls of the bathroom. “Please, just leave me alone for a few minutes.” 

Tony didn’t reply; nor did he leave, but eventually Ianto heard his footsteps clicking against the tiles as he walked away. The door clicked as it was closed and Ianto dropped his head into his hands, biting down on the heel to swallow up the sobs that tore from his throat. He hunched over, letting the grief wrack through him until there were no tears left to cry. Then, slowly, he picked himself up from the floor. He flushed the chain and turned on the tap to splash some water on his face, swilling some around his mouth and spitting it out before draining the glass of water that Tony had provided. After a final glance in the mirror, Ianto straightened his tie and stepped out of the bathroom. 

There was a world to save, and if Jack Harkness was dead – really, truly dead – then Ianto would ensure that he would not have died for nothing.

*

Three days passed and Ianto’s good intentions turned to ash. It wasn’t that he no longer wished to help Torchwood – God help him, even when he was on the other side of the Atlantic and building a new life for himself, he still had an insane urge to take care of Captain Jack Harkness – but there simply wasn’t enough time.

Tony had been true to his word and had delivered information on Jack within hours. He was alive – thank God – and being held in some abandoned facility. There had been video clips too, and Ianto had come to regret the coffee he’d just drunk when he saw the blurry CCTV images of Jack chained to a metal bed, his body slowly rebuilding itself. If that had been unbearable, Ianto couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened next. Try as he might he couldn’t forget the sound of Jack’s screams as he had been covered in wet concrete. 

As much as the idea tempted him, Ianto knew that he could not simply leave Tony for some half-cocked rescue mission that was probably doomed to failure anyway. Nor could he even consider Tony’s other idea: sure, having Iron Man go in and blast Jack free sounded good on paper but Ianto strongly suspected that it would constitute an act of war and the last thing they needed right now was another political headache. 

Besides, Jack was alright now. JARVIS had found another report that attempted to explain the security lapses that had allowed Gwen and Rhys to escape with him. The Government appeared to be deeply unhappy with that turn of events, and Torchwood were still wanted fugitives. It didn’t prevent Ianto from wanting to help but it did lessen the urgency somewhat.

Not that it mattered now, because Tony had put a stop to any thoughts Ianto might have had about returning to the United Kingdom in the foreseeable future. The British Government had not gone to the extent of demanding his extradition, but judging by their internal e-mail he was officially persona non grata and there were orders for his arrest, and even his execution, should he be suspected of assisting the Torchwood team. Ianto would have protested, but he was being kept too busy to even consider doing so. If he found himself with some spare time he used it to eat, to sleep or to spend a few frantic minutes with Tony. 

Ever since the children had started speaking in unison the parents had been demanding answers. Now that they had them - even though the alien threat was currently located in London – things had begun to escalate. People wanted to know what the politicians were doing, and more and more people were turning to Iron Man for a solution. Tony was out morning and night, placating people, keeping a check on looting and rioting and generally making his presence felt. Ianto was still trying to Stark Industries running, whilst manning the phones which were suddenly busy with journalists who wanted to know what Tony Stark was going to do about the current situation.

It was at times like this that Ianto really missed the relative privacy of Torchwood. 

And if all that wasn’t enough, this morning Tony had done something that had made it impossible for Ianto to get up and walk away from him. No sooner had JARVIS revealed the aliens’ demand, throwing up more worries than Ianto wanted to think about, had Tony turned to him, credit card in hand, 

“Transfer some money to your sister – I don’t care how much. Tell her to take her kids and find somewhere to hide until this blows over.”

Ianto had taken the card, knowing that he should refuse the offer but not wanting to. Instead, he had murmured his thanks and pressed a brief kiss to Tony’s cheek. The threat to his niece and nephew had occurred to him, even if he hadn’t got round to contacting Rhiannon to check up on them. Knowing that it had also occurred to Tony, knowing that Tony had even remembered that he had a family, had made him realise just what he would be losing if he ran back to Cardiff to help Jack. 

It didn’t explain what he was doing, sitting at Tony’s desk and absently tapping the card against the surface as he stared at his phone. He hadn’t spoken to Rhiannon in months, not since his arrival in America, and he dreaded her reaction to his offer. She wouldn’t like it one bit, but Ianto knew that he would be able to persuade her – for the children’s sake if nothing else. 

He picked up his mobile and scrolled through the address book until he reached her number. The phone rang three times before Rhiannon answered it. 

“Hello? Who’s that?”

She sounded flustered and Ianto could hear the voices of children squabbling in the background. His brow wrinkled; there were certainly more than two young voices. There was also an edge to Rhiannon’s that he hadn’t heard before, and Ianto worried that it was already too late to do anything. 

“Rhiannon, it’s me – Ianto.”

He could almost imagine Rhiannon rolling her eyes. “Glad you told me, it’s been so long I’d forgotten what you sounded like - for God’s sake David - give Mica back her game! – Sorry about that, I’ve got a houseful at the moment. People don’t want their kids in school so I said I’d look after ‘em. Johnny’s on about charging – ten quid a kid. Load of rubbish of you ask me. I’m hardly gonna turn them away.”

“Rhiannon, listen.” Ianto interrupted. As much as he would have liked to sit and listen to Rhiannon blather on about her life he needed her to pay attention.

“Hang on a minute,” Rhiannon said. “Isn’t it the middle of the night there?”

“Something like that.” Ianto glanced out of the window at the lightening sky. It would only worry Rhiannon if she found out that he had been awake all night. “But that doesn’t matter. Just stop and listen to me for a moment!” There must have been something in his voice for he stopped talking immediately. “What I’m about to tell you is top secret – you must not reveal it to anyone. Not even Johnny – he’d never manage to keep it quiet. All I need is for you to believe me and to do exactly as I say. This thing controlling the kids – they’re from another planet. They want children. That’s why they’re here.”

“They what?” Rhiannon exploded, sounding a little disbelieving. “Ianto, what are you on about? If this is your idea of some drunken joke then I’ll...”

“It’s not.” Ianto cut her off. “They want kids. Millions of them. I can’t tell you why – I don’t know myself. It doesn’t matter anyway, I need you to take your family away from Cardiff until this whole mess blows over. I’ve transferred some money in your account so you can rent a holiday cottage somewhere. They should be safe there. Don’t let anyone take Mica or David away from you, for whatever reason. Warn every parent you know – tell them to keep their kids with them at all times.”

“Ianto, they won’t take our kids away from us.” Rhiannon sounded frightened, but she was trying to hide it – from the kids in her charge and also, he suspected, from him. “They just won’t. I don’t know where you’re getting this from but you’re wrong.”

“They won’t succeed,” Ianto promised, thinking of Jack and Gwen and how they would do anything to stop the aliens claiming their ghastly toll. “People are trying to stop this – and they’ll stop at nothing – but please Rhiannon, just do this as a precaution. Please, for Mica and David.”

The phone beeped in his hand, telling him that he had another caller trying to get through. Ianto ignored it – whoever it was could wait a few minutes longer – and turned his attention back to his sister.

She wasn’t arguing, and that was proof enough that she believed him, or was at least frightened enough to do as he said. Rhiannon could be stubborn and argumentative but she would do anything for her family. She would comply with his request and woe betide anyone who even considered trying to stop her. 

His phone beeped again and Ianto frowned. “Look, I’ve got to go. I love you. Don’t let the kids out of your sight. I love them, too. I’m even warming to Johnny a bit.”

“We love you, too.” Rhiannon responded, her voice thick with tears. There was nothing more that Ianto could say to her, nothing that would make this situation any better. He ended the call, dropping the phone onto the table and cradling his head in his hands. 

It took him a moment or two to compose himself enough to remember the other caller. He lifted his head and pulled his phone across to him, and sure enough a missed call alert flashed on the screen. Pressing a couple of buttons he came up with the caller list and looked to see who had called him. The number had been withheld. 

Jack. Ianto thought immediately, and no sooner had he thought it did he know it to be true. Deep in his gut, he knew that it had been Jack who had phoned. He wrapped his hand around the phone and took a deep breath, steeling himself against the unwanted emotions that even thinking of Jack threw up. Pushing them away, he reminded himself that if Jack had truly wanted him, he could call back. Ianto was no longer a part of Torchwood, he worked for Tony and Jack couldn’t expect him to be at his beck and call. He was where he belonged. 

Why then, did it feel like the worst sort of betrayer? 

He ran a hand over his face, leaning back in his chair and taking a moment to survey the paperwork that still lay in front of him. It wasn’t really something that he wanted to deal with right now: he didn’t think that his attention could remain fixed on something so trivial. He was exhausted and he knew that he needed rest, but the responsible part of him knew that he would regret it if he allowed work to pile up. Sighing, he closed his eyes, deciding that giving them a few moments’ rest would not hurt anyone.

 

Ianto jerked awake with a start, sucking in gasping breaths and trying to rid himself of the last remnants of his dream. All he could remember was tightness in his chest and throat that had made it such a struggle to breathe. It still felt as if he wasn’t getting enough oxygen now, and his cheeks felt damp. He raised a hand to touch his face, frowning when his fingers came away wet. Had he been crying in his sleep? Ianto was no stranger to nightmares but he had never woken so suddenly from one before, and the horrifying images had always stayed with him so much longer. This time, the images had already faded; leaving Ianto with very little recollection of what had affected him so. 

“You’re going to give yourself all kinds of problems sleeping like that, you know,” Tony interrupted from the other side of the desk. Ianto’s eyes snapped up and his frown deepened, as he wondered how he had not noticed Tony standing there before now. It wasn’t as if he could easily blend into the background. 

“I was just about to wake you,” Tony continued. “Do you get bad dreams a lot?”

Ianto nodded, wiping his hand across his face in an attempt to brush away the worst part of the tears. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear the fog in his head. “Not so much, lately,” he clarified. “I think it’s the change of environment. Not so many ghosts around here.”

“You don’t regret it, then?” Tony asked. “Coming over here? Staying over here?”

Ianto hesitated for a moment, trying to think about how best to phrase his answer. He knew that he had let the pause carry on far too long when Tony stepped away, putting a little more distance between them.

“No!” he protested. “No, of course I don’t!”

And he didn’t, no matter how much he missed Torchwood, no matter how much he missed Jack, he would not have chosen to change anything. Leaving Wales, coming to work for Stark Industries and meeting Tony – they had been the only choice, and he felt much better for having taken it. There was only so much a man could take, and Ianto had reached his breaking point long before he had been willing to admit it to himself. 

“I couldn’t have stayed there,” he admitted. “I couldn’t have gone on pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t. He had been pushing me away for months, no longer confiding in me or agreeing to go out to dinner. He would barely touch me when we weren’t shagging. I couldn’t bear to be his – his –” He dropped his gaze, following the grain in the desk. The words caught in his throat, still stinging after all this time. “I wanted to be more than his part time shag. I’d thought I was, but now I’m not sure.”

Tony circled the desk, crouching down beside Ianto’s chair and placing a hand on his knee. “Seems to me that he’s a idiot,” he said, and then he sighed. “Ianto, I know I said that I just wanted... casual. But if you think I’m being unfair to you...”

“You aren’t!” Ianto interrupted, he placed his hand over Tony’s and offered him a tight smile. “And, believe me, I’m not ready for anything more than casual right now.” 

“Because you’re still in love with him.” 

Ianto paled, eyes widening and mouth dropping open as he sought a response to that. He stammered for a moment, words stumbling over his own tongue as he tried to phrase an apology, a denial – anything. What the hell was he even supposed to say to that? Ianto supposed that he had to deny it – because while he didn’t love Tony, he was certainly not still in love with Jack. Was he?

“Don’t.” Tony shook his head. He didn’t sound angry, or even upset. Instead, there was a certain amount of flippancy in his tone that just sounded incongruous given the situation. “You’ll just make a fool of yourself while you try an explain it. It doesn’t matter, anyway – because this – us – we’re never going to be the romance of the century. Not as long as we’re in love with other people.”

Ianto was deeply aware that Tony’s words should have hurt more than they did. And while there was the smallest of pangs, it was overwhelmed by the rush of relief. He wasn’t ready for anything complicated yet, he had been burned by Lisa and by Jack and he didn’t want it to happen again. While he liked and respected Tony, and even felt a certain degree of fondness for him, he knew better than to call his feelings love. He had not really worried that Tony would want to push things beyond casual sex, but he had considered how awkward things would become if that were to happen. How did you break it to someone that no matter how much you liked them, you simply didn’t love them? Ianto didn’t know – but then, he had always been the one to seek out the unattainable, only to be stunned beyond belief when they had turned out to be not so unattainable after all. He had never had to turn anyone down and didn’t quite know how he would go about it. 

“I’m not in love with him,” he said, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. His heart twisted, knowing that he spoke a lie and he lowered his eyes. Ianto had tried to deny it but Jack Harkness was a hard act to follow, and Ianto had loved him enough to die for him. That was why he had left, because he had learnt what the poets had spoken about for years: loving someone who did not love you back was the cruellest torture. 

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “You are.” 

He said nothing more, simply sitting back on his heels and staring at Ianto. His reaction surprised Ianto a little. He had seen the worst of Tony, and he had supposed that he would be jealous of anyone who took precedence over him in matters of the heart. It was not the case, though, for Tony had seen the truth of Ianto’s heart long before he had himself. Perhaps the lack of jealousy was simply because they were alike in their feelings. Or perhaps Tony simply didn’t care for exclusivity in his casual relationships. 

Ianto didn’t try to deny his feelings for Jack again; it would have been an insult to all three of them. Nor was there any need to ask Tony who it was that he still loved. Although Tony had but rarely mentioned her name, the other staff at Stark Industries had made it perfectly clear that his predecessor – a certain Miss Potts – had been the object of his affections. The nature of her departure was unknown, but Ianto had heard and dismissed all of the office gossip and still remained deeply curious as to the reason why she had left. 

“May I ask what happened between you and Miss Potts?” 

Tony remained silent for a moment, his hand sliding from Ianto’s knee. Ianto was about to retract the question, apologising for being too personal – or perhaps sounding like a jealous lover – when Tony spoke. 

“Miss Potts – Pepper – and I were never really together,” he admitted. “There was no cheating, no unwanted pregnancy – none of that. There was never anything between us to end.” 

Ianto frowned, confused, because from the way people spoke of Tony and Pepper, and from the way Tony had spoken about Pepper, he had assumed that they were very much an item. 

“But I thought...”

“No,” Tony shook his head, raising his head to meet Ianto’s eyes. “There could have been. There was even the perfect chance – but I didn’t take it.”

Ianto’s frown deepened. There was no way that Tony Stark would ever miss any chance. If he hadn’t taken it then it was not through lack of noticing, or even lack of confidence. It could only be because he hadn’t wanted to. But why, when it was so evident that he was in love with her? What possible reason could he have? 

He never got chance to ask. The phone on the desk rang shrilly, the screen lighting up. Ianto turned away from Tony, fumbling for his phone and lifting it up, answering it without looking at the screen. 

“Hello, Stark Industries. Ianto Jones speaking, how may I help you?”

His heart sank as the voice on the other end of the line answered. It wasn’t Jack, and from the sounds of it, his conversation with Tony would have to be delayed for another time. 

“It’s for you,” He handed the phone over and sat back in his chair, watching as Tony’s face drooped with every affirmative response he gave. 

“It was the police commissioner.” He explained when he ended the call. “He thinks that the crowd are getting unruly again.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Yes, because they’re meant to sit by and let this happen to their children.” He got to his feet and stretched, rolling his neck to ease the cramped muscles. 

Tony pouted, getting to his feet and sliding his arms around Ianto’s waist. “You know what – I really could do with a life model decoy. Someone else to do all the heavy lifting while I do... well, you.” 

Ianto chuckled and pressed a brief kiss to Tony’s lips. “I’ll still be here when you’re finished,” he said. He pointed in the direction of the garage. “Now, go.”

Tony released him and backed away in that direction. “I still think the life model decoy is a good idea. Look into it for me.”

Ianto shook his head as Tony hurried out of the room, settling down to do the paperwork that was scattered across the desk. Some things never changed. He was used to being the one sitting behind the desk, waiting for the heroes to return victorious. A part of him didn’t mind, because this was what he was good at. But there was another part, a part that he tried to ignore, that wanted to be out there with Tony, helping to save the day as he once had with Torchwood. He would only be getting in the way though, and be more of a distraction than a help. It was better for all involved if he stayed well away. Picking up his pen, he began to look over the first piece, putting Tony and Jack firmly to the back of his mind.

*

The months passed slowly and everyone slowly forgot about the incident with the children. No children had been taken by the aliens, but from what Ianto understood, one had been lost. Stephen Carter, the young child sacrificed to save all the others. As usual, the responsibility for such a grim task had fallen on Jack’s shoulders and he had borne it out. It had cost him much, too, for Ianto had managed to unearth another detail that many had overlooked. A small detail, but one that made everything much harder to stomach: Stephen Carter had been Jack’s own grandchild. 

The revelation had sickened Ianto, and he had initially wondered how Jack had been able to do such a thing. He had fumed silently for a few hours, taking himself off for a long run along the seafront where he could be alone, away from anyone who knew him. With his feet pounding on the concrete walkway, and the music blaring in his ears he had tried to make sense of the events. It hadn’t taken him much longer to realise that there had been no choice. The blame for Stephen’s death lay with the British Government and the aliens that had made all of this happen. Jack had simply seen no other way out. There had been no time for Jack’s own personal grievances and feelings; it had been pure bad luck that his own grandson had been the only child nearby. The Government had only wanted the Captain - a man who could press a button and save the world because that was what he did. 

It was little wonder, then, that he had disappeared afterwards. No one had heard from him since the incident. When the smoke had died down, Jack had simply vanished. Gwen had phoned Ianto several times, telling him about her pregnancy and about the rebuilding of the Hub, asking him if Jack had been in contact. Ianto had responded in the negative on each occasion, all the while wondering why she was so convinced that Jack would come to him. He had left them behind, cut them off without so much as a goodbye and severed all links. Why would Jack come to him now, of all times, when he hadn’t before? 

After all, he had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with Ianto. Standard procedure dictated that there was only one way to escape Torchwood alive, and that was with a bellyful of retcon. Ianto had spent the first few days following his abscondence expecting a knock on the door. Waiting for Jack to show up and try to convince him to return or, failing that, to administer the drug. Quite honestly, if Jack had followed him, Ianto knew he would have collected his things and boarded the first flight back to Wales. Jack hadn’t come though, and Ianto had been left certain of the fact that he didn’t even care enough to try to persuade him to come home. 

Jack hadn’t been interested then. Why on earth did Gwen think he would be now?

Ianto still worried about Jack. How could he not? The Captain was an expert at getting himself into all kinds of scrapes and Ianto had often lain awake at night wondering where Jack was, and what – or who – he was doing. He tried not to let it bother him because he was the one who had left Jack, giving up any claim he might have on him. 

It was a lazy Wednesday afternoon. Tony was sitting at his desk, looking through some schematics for his latest project, absently tossing peanuts in the air and attempting to catch them in his mouth. He had a pretty high success rate, but Ianto could still hear the occasional muttered complaint when one bounced off his lip or his nose to fall behind the sofa.

He looked up from his computer screen, watching the trajectory of one doing just that and raised his eyebrows. “If you’re going to do that, then you could at least improve your aim. We both know you aren’t going to be the one to clean them up.”

Tony glanced over at Ianto and smirked before throwing another peanut into the air. This one he caught, holding it between his teeth as he grinned at Ianto. “You mean you’re going to be bending over in those tight pants? That’s not exactly an incentive to stop.”

Ianto rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the screen. He was reading a report dated a month ago of a stranger pushing a child from the path of a speeding car in a tiny village in northern Mexico. The man had been hit by the car instead, thrown through the air to land in a crumpled heap that none of the onlookers had thought he would ever rise from again. The teenage driver had been terrified of life in prison, but then the man had stood up, brushed himself down and walked away without any sign of injury. 

_‘El Diablo’_ the villagers had called him, crossing themselves in warding, showing no gratitude towards a man who had given a child a chance to live. No one had been able to find him to learn his identity but Ianto knew only one man who could get up and walk away from an incident that should have taken his life. Jack was good at covering his tracks, but he also had a hero complex. Stories like this one had followed him around the world. It was only too easy to find him if one knew what he was looking for. And Ianto hadn’t been able to resist looking. He had told himself that it was only idle interest that spurred his actions, but he knew that it wasn’t normal to be following your ex’s movements when you had supposedly moved on. 

Something hit him between the eyes, bouncing off and clattering onto the laptop keyboard. Ianto frowned, rubbing at the spot it had hit and glancing down, unsurprised to find a peanut nestled between the I and J keys. He looked up over his screen, eyebrows raised at Tony.

“That hurt.”

Tony flashed him another smile. “So did that comment about my aim. I was just proving you wrong.”

Ianto shook his head, “I think you’ll find that I’m never wrong.”

He turned back to the message board, wondering whether he needed to run interference before anyone linked the several incidents that had occurred over the last few months and come to the conclusion that they all featured the same man. Jack hardly needed the exposure. 

“So, answer me this, then.” Tony shoved the papers aside, standing up and strolling across the room. Ianto barely had chance to close the laptop screen and set it aside before Tony was tugging him to his feet and sliding his arms around his waist. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do to you?”

Ianto glanced towards the windows, making sure that the blinds were all drawn. They may have been on the top floor but he still had some sense of propriety. The door would not be a problem; none of Tony’s employees would enter without knocking. 

“I rather imagine,” he said, running his hands along Tony’s arms and coming to a halt at his hips, “That you’re planning on having your wicked way with me, quite possibly on top of your desk.”

Tony’s smile widened and his hands slid down to cup Ianto’s arse and gave it a sharp squeeze. “Quite right, Mister Jones,” he drawled. “Although you missed the part where...”

The phone rang, shrilly putting an end to Ianto ever finding out what he had missed. He hesitated, glancing over Tony’s shoulder at the desk. 

“Ignore it,” Tony muttered, flicking his tongue out to capture Ianto’s ear lobe between his lips, nipping at it with his teeth. “Whoever it is can wait.”

Ianto was racking his brains, trying to remember whether or not there were any meetings that he had forgotten, unlikely as it was, but he was coming up short. Trying to think past Tony’s lips against his skin and his hands on his arse was proving difficult, but he couldn’t shake the notion that he should answer the call.

“It might be important,” he protested as Tony’s lips settled over his pulse point. 

“This is important,” Tony muttered against Ianto’s skin, “You’re important.”

His hands flexed against Ianto’s arse and he raised his head, crushing their lips together and driving all thoughts of answering the telephone far from Ianto’s mind. Ianto allowed himself to be manoeuvred around, taking small steps backwards until the edge of the desk pressed firmly against his thighs. Tony’s hand slid from Ianto’s arse, curling around his leg until the heel was pressed firmly against his erection. 

The phone rang again, and this time it wasn’t the piercing cry of the desk phone but the subtler tone that Ianto had selected for his mobile. He shifted, turning his head slightly so that he could break the kiss, and tried to ignore the vibrations that were coming from his jacket pocket. 

“Ignore it,” Tony repeated, pressing a little more firmly against Ianto’s crotch. Ianto gasped, his hand flying to catch Tony’s, his fingers curling around his wrist and pulling his hand away. 

As much as he wanted to ignore it, Ianto knew that he could not. For someone to call his mobile immediately after failing to get an answer from Tony – and there was no question about the phone calls having the same point of origin – would mean that something needed dealing with urgently. 

“You know that I can’t,” he said, giving Tony a small shake of the head. Still holding Tony at arm’s length, he pulled his mobile from his pocket, barely glancing at the screen before accepting the call.

“Hello, Ianto Jones speaking. How may I help?”

“Hello, Mr Jones. Could you please come down to the front lobby? There’s a man asking for you. He says that it’s urgent.”

The voice belonged to Maria, the woman who worked on the reception desk. The tone of her voice made Ianto take a step back, disentangling his hand from Tony’s grasp before he could even think about lavishing attention on his fingers. Shooting his boss a warning glare, he brushed down his jacket and straightened his tie, trying his best to will away his arousal. It seemed unlikely that it was going to be satisfied any time soon.

Suddenly, Maria’s voice rose a few octaves, as she turned to address someone else “Sir, just wait a few moments.” Her voice returned to normal as she spoke into the phone once more. “Mr. Jones, if you could please hurry.”

She put the phone down with a click, and Ianto glanced towards Tony. “There’s a problem in reception, apparently.” He leant forward and pressed a quick peck to Tony’s cheek. “We’ll finish this later, I promise.”

He turned on his heel and jogged out of the room. There was a lift waiting for him and he climbed in, pressing the button to take him to the lobby. As the doors slid closed behind him he turned to glance in the mirror, taking care to ensure that he looked presentable. His cheeks were still a little flushed and there were wrinkles in his shirt that no amount of smoothing out would remove, but he didn’t think anyone would notice such trifling details. If they did, he hoped they would simply attribute them to a frantic rush down to the lobby and nothing more. 

The doors slid open with a ping and Ianto turned to step out into the lobby. His eyes were drawn to the front desk immediately, and Ianto knew that any arrangements with Tony would have to be postponed for a little longer. 

His hand trembled as he raised it to activate his Bluetooth, and he had to pause to prevent his voice from doing the same. “Tony, I think we’re going to need to reschedule.”

He hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“It’s Jack. Jack’s here.”

There was a crackle, and then Tony replied. “Ah, I see. Well, you don’t need to rush back here for me. Take the rest of the day off it that’s what you need.”

There was no resentment or jealousy in Tony’s voice, and Ianto thanked whichever stars were responsible for maintaining the uncomplicated nature of their relationship because the last thing he needed right now was to feel any guilt over talking to his ex, and the feelings that would no doubt engender. 

“Thanks, Tony,” he said.

He disconnected the call and turned his attention back to Jack. The Captain was standing by the reception desk, his arms braced against the surface, and if Ianto still knew him at all, undoubtedly drumming his fingers against the woodwork. He wasn’t wearing the coat or any of the other clothing Ianto was so familiar with, but even without it he managed to look larger–than-life. There was nothing about his posture that gave away any reason for him to be there, and Ianto had no idea what sort of confrontation he needed to prepare himself for. He stopped a few metres away from Jack’s turned back, and thrust his trembling hands deep within his pockets.

“Hello, Jack,” he called, his voice only just rising above the hubbub of the crowd but clear in its uniqueness. It was after all, the only Welsh accent in the whole of Stark Industries. 

The impact on Jack was instantaneous. His whole body tensed, and then just as quickly relaxed. He spun around, his eyes widening as they landed on Ianto, his shoulders shrinking in, and his fingers balling into loose fists at his sides. 

“Ianto...” Jack whispered, taking a step forward to bridge the gap between them and then faltering. “It’s good to see you again,”

He smiled, or tried to. The Harkness grin never quite materialised and Ianto was left looking at something that was a pale imitation of the real thing. His fears of being executed or retconned vanished there and then, replaced by the sharper, less easily explained fear of not knowing what had happened to make Jack seem so... defeated. 

But, as much as he wanted to know the answers, it was no longer Ianto’s place to ask those questions, and it would be wrong to ask them here where so many inquisitive ears were listening in. “It’s good to see you, too,” he replied. “I suppose you’d like to go somewhere more private?”

It sounded like some elaborate seduction routine, and Ianto wanted to kick himself. There was no other way that Jack would take it, and that was the last thing Ianto wanted. He knew how very dangerous it would be for him to end up in bed with Jack Harkness. Half an hour in bed with the Captain and he’d be willing to forgive every one of his sins: past, present and future. Ianto couldn’t do that because Jack would then think that it was no big thing to break his heart completely and he couldn’t deal with that happening even once more. 

Seeing the curve of Jack’s lips though, and the way his eyes twinkled, Ianto knew that he could not take his words back or add anything else that would change the meaning and take away the glimpse of happiness that he was certain that Jack hadn’t felt in a long while. 

There was no other response though, and that made Ianto regard Jack curiously. He had left himself wide open there, giving Jack ample opportunity to regale him with a story about public sex but there had been nothing. No quip, no innuendo, just silence. He didn’t ask again, taking hold of Jack’s arm and steering him towards the doors.

Tony had arranged a car and it was waiting already, the driver holding the door open for them. Ianto smiled politely as he ushered Jack into the back seat and climbed in after him, giving the driver instructions to take them home to his apartment. He settled back on the plush leather seats and belted himself in, only then turning back to glance at Jack. The Captain was only on the other side of the seat but his face was turned to the window, making that few inches seem like a wide gulf. Ianto wiped his hands on his legs, staring at the black screen that separated them from the driver and tried to think of words to break the silence. 

“How are you, Jack?” he said eventually, his tongue feeling thick as it fumbled over the words. 

Jack glanced towards him, rolling his shoulders in a half hearted shrug. “I’m fine. All the better for seeing you again.”

He tried another smile, but it fell just as flat as the first had. He turned his gaze back to the window, and Ianto watched as his breath fogged up the glass. 

It was such a non-answer, and Ianto knew he ought to pursue it. There was nothing fine about Jack’s demeanour. Ianto considered himself an expert when it came to Jack and his many moods and that wasn’t a habit that you could easily fall out of. Right now, he could tell that there was something bothering Jack, but he didn’t think that he would get a straight answer if he were to ask what it was. 

Instead he reached out, wrapping his hand around Jack’s arm and giving a gentle squeeze. “So, should I be worried about accepting any drinks from you?”

He was almost convinced that Jack had not come here to terminate his employment with Torchwood the way he should have done months ago, but Ianto knew never to rule anything out when it came to Jack. He regretted asking immediately, when Jack recoiled from him, yanking his arm away as if it had been burned. 

“How can you even think that?” he said, the words seeming to trip over his tongue in his haste to get them out. “Ianto, I would never. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” The words came out a little harsher than Ianto would have liked, and he pulled his hand back, folding his arms against his chest. 

Jack’s eyebrows rose, disappearing beneath his hair – it had got a little longer since Ianto had last seen him – and his mouth gaped. “So, I need a reason to see my wayward ex-employee now, do I?”

It hurt to hear Jack refer to him as an ‘ex-employee’, for him to dismiss everything else that had been between them without a second thought was almost more than he could stand. He turned away, watching the city rush by. “Is it too much to ask for an explanation?” he said, raising his eyes at Jack’s reflection in the mirror.

“Maybe we should ask him to stop, and I’ll just catch the next flight out of here. You’re making it very clear that you don’t want me here. In fact, I could just get out right here.”

The car had slowed for a red light, and Ianto could see Jack’s hand in the reflection of the window, reaching for the handle. A sudden wave of panic rose up in his gut and he realised that if he allowed Jack to clinb out of the car now, he would never see him again. Jack was not himself, anyone with even half a notion of who he was would be able to see that, and Ianto considered himself to have more than a vague idea. He knew that he couldn’t allow him to leave like this. 

“No!” he leant across the car and took hold of Jack’s arm, pulling him back.

Jack hesitated, his fingers curling around the handle as he turned his head back so he could look at Ianto. 

“Don’t go,” Ianto murmured. He leaned back slightly but didn’t release his grip on Jack’s sleeve. “Come back to my apartment and we’ll talk. Just... don’t go.”

Jack’s fingers slid away from the handle and he settled back in his seat.

“You don’t want me here,” he repeated, sounding so petulant that Ianto had to bite his lip to hide his smile. If he was honest, he could understand Jack’s reaction – Ianto’s questions must have seemed like a rejection, and after he had travelled so far. He slid his hand along Jack’s arm, fingers curling around his wrist.

“It isn’t that I don’t want you here,” he explained, “And I am pleased to see you, but it was a surprise, you turning up like this – and I didn’t know how to react.”

Glancing out of the window past Jack he was pleased to note that they were nearly at his apartment block. They turned onto his street, and the car began to slow. 

“At least come up for a coffee,” Ianto said as it ground to a halt outside his building. “I still remember how to make your special blend.”

Jack’s lips flickered into a smile.

“I have missed your coffee,” he murmured. His hand slid back to the handle then and he pushed the door open. For a brief moment, Ianto thought that he was going to bolt and hastened to unfasten his seatbelt and climb from the car. Jack was still stood there when he stepped out of the vehicle, glancing up at the apartment building with an expression that looked an awful lot like disappointment. 

Ianto circled around the car to join him, placing a hand on his arm. “Jack, are you coming?”

Jack glanced to him and nodded, following Ianto into the lobby. He glanced around, letting out a low whistle. “You’ve gone up in the world,” he remarked. “Sure you aren’t embarrassed to bring me here?”

Ianto rolled his eyes and took hold of Jack’s arm, steering him in the direction of the lifts. As discreet as his fellow residents were, he didn’t want to cause any sort of scene.

“My new boss pays well,” he explained. He ignored the other part of Jack’s utterance – because how could anyone be embarrassed about being seen with Jack?

“So did Torchwood,” Jack replied, as the lift doors opened before them. “And if I’d known you wanted this, then I could have given you a raise.”

Ianto led the way into the lift and then turned to face Jack, pressing the button that would take them to his floor. “I never wanted anything more than I had in Cardiff, but when I moved here I thought it prudent to improve my prospects a little.”

Jack shrugged, “Well, I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.”

Ianto had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at how irritated Jack sounded. It was as if he had taken offence to Ianto’s happiness here and somehow begrudged him everything he had gained since leaving Torchwood. What had he expected? Not for Ianto to sit in some hole and pine over him, surely? 

The lift came to a halt and the doors pinged open. “Come on,” Ianto said, brushing past Jack to lead the way down the corridor towards his apartment. He knew Jack was following from his footfalls down the corridor, but he didn’t look back. The mixed signals that Jack was throwing off were enough to make anyone confused. Ianto didn’t know whether he had turned up in hope of some comfort, a fight or a fuck, and he wasn’t even sure which of those he would prefer. 

He stopped at his door and unlocked it, pushing it open and striding straight inside. The only indication he got that Jack had followed was the click of the door in the lock and then his heavy booted footsteps echoing down the passageway. Ianto headed straight into the kitchenette, flicking the coffee machine on and then leaning against the counter. He could see Jack in the lounge, awkwardly wandering around, peering out of the window, and then studying the contents of his bookshelf. Ianto left him to his own devices a little longer, finishing making the coffee – exactly to Jack’s preferences, as he had promised – before heading out there to confront him.

Placing the mugs on the coffee table he took a seat on the sofa and glanced over to where Jack was standing before the window, gazing down at the street below. “Come and sit down,” he urged, “And tell me what you’re doing here because I don’t believe for one minute that you were just passing through.”

Jack turned away from the view and padded towards the sofa, sinking into the cushions and taking hold of the coffee before taking a sip. The look of pleasure that flickered across his face made Ianto smile: apparently, he still had the knack. Ianto wrapped his hands around his own mug and took a sip. When Jack remained stubbornly silent, Ianto realised that he was going to have to draw the answers out one by one if he was going to learn anything.

“How are you really, Jack?” he asked, taking a gulp of his drink before continuing. “I followed everything on the internet – I know what you’ve been through, and I...”

“But you weren’t there,” Jack snapped, slamming the coffee mug down on the table so hard that the liquid sloshed over the sides onto the wooden surface. Ianto winced, but resisted the urge to mop it up. “We could have really used your help, Ianto and you weren’t there.”

So that was the problem, Ianto sat back on the sofa unsure what to say in response to that – unsure what he could say because he as sure as hell wasn’t ready to explain his reasons for leaving. He took a sip of his coffee, using the brief delay to formulate an answer. 

“I couldn’t be,” he explained eventually. “They would have killed me no sooner if I set foot in Britain.”

Jack was looking at him sharply, curiously – but surely he had known that Ianto would have been a target? 

“I’m twenty-six years old, Jack,” Ianto shook his head, trying to keep the note of desperation from his voice. “I’m too young to die.”

There was silence for a moment, and Ianto hardly dared to look at Jack, afraid that he would be disgusted by his admission of cowardice. Eventually, when the silence had begun to stretch out for too long, Ianto felt Jack’s fingers slide over his thigh and wrap around the hand that lay splayed there. Their fingers twined together and Jack lifted the hand, pulling it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against the knuckles. 

“Is that why you left?” 

Ianto sighed. He had known that this was coming from the moment he had seen Jack, and now there was no escaping it. Pulling his hand free from Jack’s grasp he looked up, fixing his gaze on a spot just behind the Captain’s left ear. 

“I left because I was afraid. We’d lost Tosh and Owen, and I felt like I was losing you too,” Ianto began, knotting his hands together in his lap and shooting a glance towards Jack, in an attempt to gauge his reaction.

“We’d gone from spending practically every night together to the occasional shag whenever you had some frustration to burn off – and I couldn’t bear it.” Ianto took a couple of deep breaths, trying to rein in his emotions but the barriers holding them back had burst now, and there was no turning back.

“I needed you, Jack, and you kept on pushing me aside – Gwen had Rhys, and maybe you didn’t need anyone but I did and you weren’t there. So I left before you could tell me that I wasn’t what you wanted anymore.”

Ianto closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, unable to look Jack in the eye. He knew that his tirade made him sound like a pathetic teenager who had just been rejected by their first crush, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. If Jack thought any less of him now and chose to walk away, he could live with that. Maybe it would be what he needed to pick his life up again. 

“You were always what I wanted, Ianto. You still are. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise,” Jack whispered, and his fingers touched Ianto’s jawline. Ianto could feel him pressed against him, and he knew that if he opened his eyes he would see that Jack had closed the gap between them. He knew that he should open his eyes and ask Jack what, precisely, he meant by that, and why he had pushed him away if that were the case, but the words were all torn from his mind as Jack kissed him.

It was just a brief flutter of Jack’s lips against his, as if the Captain was testing the waters, but it brought back a rush of memories and emotion. Ianto could taste Jack’s pheromones, thick and heady, permeating the air. When Jack broke the contact, pulling away, Ianto chased after him, reaching out to tangle his fingers in the fabric of Jack’s t-shirt and hauling him closer to kiss him once more. This time, the contact lingered, Jack’s hands skimmed along Ianto’s body to settle on his hips, fingers gently pushing his suit jacket aside and tugging at his shirt in their search for flesh. 

Ianto brushed his tongue insistently against Jack’s lips until they parted for him. Jack tasted so familiar, so good and Ianto was fast starting to wonder why he had ever chosen to give this up. All his reasons for why this was a bad idea faded from his mind, taking with them Ianto’s resolve to not let this happen. His hands slid up Jack’s torso to his shoulders and he pushed, firmly, insistently until the Captain yielded and slid down to lie on the sofa. Ianto followed, not breaking the kiss as he sat astride Jack and raised a hand to tangle in his hair. 

“You know, I’d have been over here much faster if I’d known what I was missing.”

The voice from the doorway had Ianto springing away from Jack. He turned, eyes widening as he came face to face with Tony. His boss leant against the wall, wearing the most infuriatingly smug expression in his repertoire and quite clearly giving Jack the once over from behind his tinted glasses.

Ianto swallowed, blinking rapidly and sliding away from Jack. It was better that there was some distance between them, although Tony could have no doubts about what had been going on. It didn’t look like he cared either. That would have bothered Ianto if he hadn’t known that Tony didn’t consider their relationship exclusive, and never would as long as it remained ‘uncomplicated’.

“You knew exactly what you were missing,” Ianto replied, but his barb lacked its usual bite. He couldn’t quite dredge it up, the emotion of the previous hour stifling his usual reserves of sarcasm. “That’s why you turned up here.” 

“Ianto, who is this guy?” Jack’s hands slid around his waist from behind and his head came to rest on his shoulders. Ianto shrugged him off, he might not feel guilty at being caught in the act but he didn’t need Jack’s possessive act either. 

“Tony Stark,” Tony held out his hand in Jack’s direction. “You’ve probably heard of me, I also go by the name of Iron Man.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, looking from Tony to Ianto and then back again. Then, he put on his widest grin, and shook Tony’s hand.

“I can’t say that I have, but it’s nice to meet you. Captain Jack Harkness, at your service.” The tone was pleasant enough but Ianto could see the muscles bunching in their forearms as each tried to out grip the other. 

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the sofa and wishing that he could disappear into the cushions. The last thing he needed right now was for Jack and Tony to start some testosterone fuelled squabble over him. 

Tony’s hand clapped down on Ianto’s shoulder and he glanced up, arching an eyebrow.  
“Anyway, I was just passing through and I thought I’d check on you,” Tony said. “Make sure that your friend hadn’t done anything that would require me to castrate him.”

“I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you.” Ianto said, rewarding Jack’s muttered, ‘I’d like to see him try’ with a sharp elbow to the ribs. 

Tony grinned. “Oh, I know you are,” he assured Ianto, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “But I like to look out for my staff, especially the ones who bring the extra perks.”

Ianto winced. That wasn’t the way that he had intended for Jack to find out at all, in fact, he hadn’t been planning on letting Jack find out at all. Jack wouldn’t be sticking around, Ianto was fairly certain that this was no more than a flying visit for old time’s sake and the fact he hadn’t remained celibate and pining was not something that he had planned on revealing. He felt Jack bristle beside him and reached out to place a hand on his thigh. It wasn’t enough to stop the sharp comment that rose from that direction though.

“Given those grey hairs, I’m surprised that you can still perk up at all.”

Tony raised a hand to his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Oh please,” he said, “You’re hardly in a position to call anyone old – what are you, one thousand years old now?”

Jack brushed aside Ianto’s hand as he leapt to his feet, stepping closer to Tony. “How do you know that? That’s classified information.”

“Your security is lax, and lately it’s gotten worse. It’s easy to walk into the Torchwood systems and find out what I need to know.” Tony shrugged, not even trying to sound modest. “For a top secret organisation you really are terrible at staying secret.”

Jack stepped closer to Tony, leaning in to crowd into him. “As oppose to endangering everyone you care about by having such a public identity?”

Tony took a step forward too. They were so close that they were almost touching. Ianto shifted slightly in his seat, rubbing his hands against his pant leg in an attempt to rid them of the thin layer of sweat. The heel of one brushed against his crotch and he groaned.

“You think I can’t protect them if it comes to that?” Tony raised his eyebrows. His eyes were dark, his mouth set into a thin line. Jack, whether unknowingly or no, had touched a raw nerve. 

Jack laughed, raising his own eyebrows and leaning in, sounding not in the least perturbed by the conversation. “With your primitive twenty-first century technology? I’ve fought enemies that you’d never stand a chance against.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, wondering whether he should remind the pair of them that he was still in the room. While a part of him bristled at the very idea of the pair of them bickering over him like spoiled children, another part of him found the sight deeply arousing. After two interruptions he was already horny, and this was doing nothing to help. He pressed his palm against his erection, tugging at the fabric in an attempt to loosen it. It caused little comfort, and watching Jack and Tony squabble was not helping matters. 

Enough was enough. He pushed himself to his feet, placing his hands on his hips in a way that he knew would draw attention to his erection. Clearing his throat, he waited until both pairs of eyes had swivelled around to him.

“If you are quite finished,” he said, looking from Tony to Jack, “I am going to bed. Either you both join me or neither of you do. Put aside your differences and think about it.”

With that, he turned on his heel and marched away in the direction of the bedroom. He left the door open as he kicked his shoes and socks off and flopped down onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows.

Exactly as he had predicted, he did not have to wait long. Jack had never been averse to sharing, and Ianto suspected that Tony was not discriminate either. The two of them practically bounded through the door, all animosity gone. Ianto was glad; he had rather hoped that they would agree because, while he wasn’t willing to favour either man over the other, he was also in the mood for something that his own hand couldn’t provide. Besides, this was an opportunity that couldn’t be missed.

He slid down to the end of the bed until he perched on the end. Glancing up at the men, he arched one eyebrow. “So, you decided to make the right choice, then?”

“The only choice,” Jack replied, bending down and pressing a kiss to Ianto’s upturned mouth. He took hold of Ianto’s tie, letting it slide through his fingers. 

At the same time Tony took a seat beside him, wrapping his hand around Ianto’s thigh. “I think you underestimate how irresistible you are, Ianto.”

He turned towards Ianto, planting a kiss in the junction between his jaw and neck. 

“I think,” Jack added, his breath ghosting across Ianto’s flesh as he pressed a line of kisses up along Ianto’s jaw to his ear. “I think that we’re all wearing too many clothes for this.”

His hands climbed slowly back along the length of Ianto’s tie and he began to undo it, pulling the silk fabric from around Ianto’s neck and tossing it over his shoulder. Tony’s fingers strayed across his chest, unfastening the top button and moving lower to thumb loose the next. 

Then, Jack slid away leaving Ianto feeling slightly bereft. Tony’s hands lingered on his chest, but only for a moment before Jack’s hands were tugging him away. Ianto slid closer to the end of the bed, meaning to follow but Jack held out an arm, placing his hand in the centre of his chest.

“No, stay there,” he said, his grin turning devilish. “Just watch.”

Taking hold of Tony’s arm, he pulled him into a kiss. Lips parted, teeth clashing, tongues delving into each other’s mouths – and all the while hands roamed down bodies, brushing over erect nipples and travelling lower still. 

Ianto groaned, pressing the palm of his hand firmly against his crotch. It was the most erotic sight that he had ever seen, and being with Jack, and later Tony, he had seen a lot of those. He longed to join them, but Jack clearly had a plan and Ianto knew better than to interfere, especially when the plan revolved around his sexual gratification.

Jack’s didn’t break the kiss as his hands slid from Tony’s arse, climbing up his body and pushing his suit jacket from his shoulders before turning his attention to his tie. The silk material parted easily and Jack pulled it from Tony’s collar. Deft fingers flicked open the buttons of his shirt, Jack pressing kisses down Tony’s neck, sucking on the pulse point until Tony’s head fell back with a groan. 

Ianto was suddenly struck by a thought: that this was what it must have looked like when Jack was undressing him, the slow, sensual removal of each layer of his suit. He had worn a suit for his own benefit alone at first, but had carried on wearing them every day, even when more casual attire would be more appropriate, just for the reaction that they inspired in Jack. He had never really paid that much attention to how it felt to have it removed. 

Jack slowly peeled the shirt from Tony’s shoulders and slid it down his arms, letting it fall to the floor and pool at their feet. Finally pulling his lips from Tony’s neck, he let his fingers trail around the edge of the arc reactor set into the centre of his chest.

“It really is ingenious,” he murmured. 

“I thought you said it was primitive?” Tony smirked, leaning in to press a kiss to Jack’s jaw. His eyes darted to the side, catching Ianto’s, and his grin widened. “I definitely heard the word primitive come out of your mouth.” 

“It is primitive. Doesn’t mean it can’t be ingenious too,” Jack replied, turning his head so that he met Tony’s mouth with his own. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and tugged before releasing it and glancing sidelong at Ianto. “Now, hurry up and get me out of these clothes before Ianto explodes.”

Ianto guiltily removed his hand from his crotch, resisting the urge to unfasten his trousers and push his hand down into his briefs so that he could feel the skin-on-skin contact that he craved so desperately. Ianto had no intention of derailing Jack’s plans by climaxing early, although he didn’t think that he would be able to last that much longer. Not with the display that he was currently witnessing. 

Tony’s hands skimmed over Jack’s chest, pushing the leather jacket he wore from his shoulders – and it was still so very wrong to see Jack without his coat – before sliding back down to gather under the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up over his chest. Ianto’s breath caught in his throat as Tony tossed the shirt aside and pulled Jack flush against his chest and into a messy, open mouthed kiss. Jack’s hands lingered on Tony’s back for a moment before sliding down, skimming over the curve of his arse and around his thighs to fiddle with the button of his trousers. 

Ianto’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, his whole mouth feeling dry as Jack’s hand slid inside Tony’s trousers. He could plainly see where the hand shifted against Tony’s erection. There were a series of muffled thumps as first Tony, and then a few moments later, Jack prised their feet out of their shoes and kicked them out of the way. The tiny part of Ianto that still cared about such trivialities hoped that they hadn’t scuffed the wooden flooring, but he quickly chased those thoughts away with the knowledge that, right now, it didn’t really matter. 

Jack slid his hand from out of Tony’s trousers, pushing both them and his underwear down over his hips to pool around his ankles. Tony stepped out of them, using his feet to peel away his socks and sending them to the other side of the room. While he was occupied, Jack pulled away from him, finally breaking the kiss to shed the rest of his clothing. 

They stayed apart for only a second before surging forward once more. Their lips crashed together and Jack’s hand shot out to grasp their erections, wrapping around both of them. He began to slide his fist up and down, pumping furiously until Tony’s lips parted in a low groan. There was an echo, and it took Ianto a moment to realise it was coming from his own throat. 

Jack chuckled – he was always so good at staying in control when he was making those around him lose theirs – and stepped away from Tony. Then he turned to Ianto, raising his eyebrows and leering as his hand closed around his own erection, thumb sliding across the head.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his grin spreading across his face. 

“Of course he does,” Tony said, stepping up beside Jack and pulling him into another messy kiss, his hand dropping to caress Jack’s arse “With two fine specimens such as ourselves, what’s not to like?” He broke the kiss, turning round and arching his eyebrow at Ianto. “Well, are you going to join us?”

Ianto was on his feet in a hurry, trying his best not to trip over them in his eagerness to reach the others. There was no need to worry: no sooner had he stepped near enough did Jack’s arm reach out and pull him close. Their mouths clashed together, Jack’s teeth closing around his lower lip and nipping sharply as their tongues twined. Kissing Jack had always been something unique, an unbelievable attack on the senses. He could taste Jack’s pheromones in his kiss. He surged forward, pressing his suit-clad erection against Jack’s naked one and grinding their hips together sharply.

Hands slid around his waist from behind and Tony pressed up against his back, smattering kisses down his neck. Ianto felt Tony’s hand travel up his body, hooking underneath the lapels of his jacket and sliding it down his arms. 

“I love it when he wears suits,” Tony murmured to Jack, over Ianto’s shoulder. “It just prolongs the experience.”

“It’s like unwrapping a present,” Jack chuckled, his breath warm against Ianto’s ear, “And I never get tired of what’s inside it.”

He pressed a kiss to Ianto’s jaw, as if to emphasise his words. The part of Ianto that was still capable of coherency decided that he was rather tired of the pair of them talking about him rather than to him and he reached around Jack to give his bare arse a sharp smack.

“Get on with it, then,” he complained, when Jack gave a squawk of protest and pulled away to stare at him. 

Behind, Tony chuckled, giving Ianto’s arse a squeeze. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

He turned his attention back to Ianto’s neck, sucking against the skin above his rapidly beating pulse, his hands sliding around Ianto’s waist, now, and beginning to unfasten his belt with long practiced motions. 

Jack’s hands were unfastening his waistcoat buttons and peeling it away from his body, fingers tracing patterns in the silk lining as if he hadn’t felt anything quite as luxurious in a while. He probably hadn’t, Ianto realised, not if he had been travelling from one back-of-beyond village to the next. He brought his fingers up to trail along Jack’s cheek and then leant in to press a brief kiss to his lips. 

He pulled back quickly, leaning against Tony’s chest and letting the warmth of his flesh and the chill of the metal arc reactor seep through him. Tony’s cock was pressed into his arse, his hands now pushing his trousers down over his hips and palming his erection though the cotton of his briefs. He pressed down and Ianto’s head lolled back to rest on Tony’s shoulder. Tony chuckled in response, tilting his head slightly to press a kiss to the side of Ianto’s face. Ianto smirked and ground his arse against Tony’s cock, drawing a groan from his lips.

Jack was taking his time over unfastening the buttons of Ianto’s shirt, as if he were savouring the moment, drawing it out so that Ianto’s torture was prolonged. He had always been good at that. Ianto breathed a sigh of relief as Jack unfastened the last of the buttons and let the ends slide from his fingers. 

Slowly, reverentially, Jack lowered his lips to nuzzle them against Ianto’s collar bone, kissing a line along it until he reached his neck. There, he lifted his head and looked across Ianto’s shoulder towards Tony. Ianto could hear the wet smack of their kiss, the raw battle for supremacy that neither really cared about now. Trapped between the press of their bodies, held up only by the position of Tony behind him and Jack before him, Ianto sagged, boneless, no longer trusting his legs to support him. A breathy sigh, burst from one of the men – he could no longer tell which – and he shifted, just enough to rub himself against Jack’s thigh. 

Ianto rolled his hips forward, his trousers sliding further down his leg to bunch at the knee. They hung there, uncomfortable and threatening to further affect his ability to remain upright. Something had to be done about them. He pressed his hands against Jack’s shoulder, breaking the kiss and drawing a low moan that was almost certainly Jack. No one else was capable of making noises like that. 

“Feeling neglected, are we?” Tony murmured, breath caressing the shell of his ear. His hands slid down his chest, fingers teasing one nipple into a hard nub as his lips latched onto his pulse point, nipping and sucking against the tender flesh. Ianto’s eyes slid closed and he leant into Tony’s embrace. 

“Please,” he managed to stutter. “Trousers.”

Tony only chuckled, and renewed his assault, taking Ianto’s mind away from his surroundings. Had it not be for Jack’s pheromones continuing to assault his senses he suspected that he would have quite forgotten that anyone else was there. 

Jack chuckled. “You want me to put them back on?”

His voice sounded strange, as if it were coming from a distance and Ianto could no longer feel his breath on his face. Before he could respond, or even open his eyes to locate Jack, there was a press against his erection, the feather-light brush of lips felt through a thin layer of cloth. 

“Off,” he breathed. “Please. Jack.”

Jack’s fingers hooked under the edge of Ianto’s briefs and he pulled them down in one swift motion, gathering his trousers up and tugging them to the floor. He carefully lifted Ianto’s feet, one by one, swiftly removing the clothing and tossing it to one side. Then just as gently his hands slid up the sides of Ianto’s legs and Ianto felt a pair of kisses brush against his inner-thigh before a third was placed on the head of his cock. He felt Jack’s tongue flick out along the slit, gathering precome. Slowly, he lowered his hand and let his fingers drift through Jack’s hair.

Jack raised his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was an attempt at a leer but Ianto thought it fell rather flat. His fingers slid down the side of Jack’s face, caressing his cheek and when Jack leant into his touch with what looked like desperation, Ianto was left to wonder once more exactly how long it had been since he had last been touched, or last allowed himself to be touched, like this. 

Before Ianto could say anything, Jack lowered his head again, closing his lips around the head of Ianto’s cock. At the same time, Tony’s fingers twisted around Ianto’s nipple, catching in the hairs and tugging slightly. It was enough to sting without being overly painful and Ianto tilted his head back, a muffled groan bursting from his lips. 

Tony’s hands pulled away and he took a step backwards, pressing his hands up against Ianto’s hips to prevent him from falling. Palms slid round to cup his arse and gave each cheek a squeeze. Ianto swallowed a gasp as he felt one long finger probe along the crease, slickened with what he could only guess was spit. Then – as if they had shared some secret signal that Ianto was oblivious to – both men moved at once, Tony’s finger breaching Ianto’s entrance and Jack taking him whole in his mouth. Ianto felt his breath leave him in a moan, engulfed in sensation so intense that all rational thought was driven from his mind. Nothing existed but the here and now, but Tony, Jack and himself.

“Oh God,” he whimpered, aware that if his lovers were to relax their grip on him there would be nothing left to support him and he would fall. He trusted these men, though, and knew that neither of them would ever let that happen. Tony’s free hand lay on his thigh fingers digging into the flesh, Jack’s were just a little higher, resting on his hips, thumbs tracing the curve of bone as he held Ianto in place. Jack’s tongue was darting out, sliding along the thick vein in his cock, circling around the head and occasionally flicking over his balls. Tony was behind him, his finger slowly crooking and flexing, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through Ianto’s body. The burn was raw and intense, reduced only by what little slick Tony had used. He could feel the heat coming from both of them, his senses overloaded. 

Ianto could feel how close he was, his heart hammering against his chest in a repetitive litany that could not be ignored and his breath coming in short, frantic gasps. Warmth was pooling in his groin, and while he was not averse to the idea of coming with Jack’s lips around him, he was not prepared for this to be over quite yet. His fingers flexed against Jack’s shoulder.

“Jack, Tony...” he breathed, and then he could only get out two more words, panted frantically as Tony’s finger brushed over his prostate: “Bed – please!”

Jack leant back, releasing Ianto’s cock with a soft pop. He grinned widely, the spit and precome spreading out over his lips making him look like some debauched creature. Tony slid his fingers free and took a step backwards, sliding his hands down Ianto’s body to link with Jack’s at his waist. Ianto swayed suddenly unsteady and completely bereft. He yearned for their touch again, craved it, ached for it – he wanted nothing more than to feel their hands, their mouths, on him once again. 

Jack slowly rose to his feet, skimming his lips across Ianto’s stomach and pausing to tweak his nipples, pressing soft, fluttering kisses along his neck and jaw before placing a final one on his lips. Ianto’s tongue darted out across Jack’s lips, tasting himself there. It was mixed with that heady taste that Ianto had always presumed to be Jack’s pheromones.

“Come on then,” Jack said, and without warning, he took a step back and swung Ianto over one shoulder. Ianto cried out in protest, the sound turning to a muffled ‘oof’ as he was deposited on the bed, his head bouncing on the pillow. 

He raised his head to glare at Jack, opening his mouth to deliver a protest at such undignified treatment, only to be cut off by a kiss – not from Jack as he might have expected but Tony, who had straddled him and was pressing him back into the mattress with firm, calloused hands that brushed across his hardened nipples. And God, he had never even imagine that he would enjoy – never mind crave - the sensation of rough, masculine fingers against his skin but here he was, coming apart from the merest touch. 

He closed his eyes, parting his lips further and allowing Tony to deepen the kiss, one hand shifting, cupping Ianto’s face and stroking his thumb along the curve of his jaw. Ianto felt the bed sag behind him and he stirred, opening his eyes to slits to see Jack lounging beside him. The Captain’s body lay flush against his, his cock warm against his skin as he propped himself up on one elbow. His fingers were lazily tracing patterns in his chest hair, occasionally brushing over his nipples in a manner that looked accidental but that Ianto was convinced was entirely on purpose. 

Groping out with his free hand - a difficult process considering that his brain was currently occupied with the kiss – Ianto managed to hook his hand behind Jack’s head. Tangling his fingers in his hair, he tugged him closer. Jack got the message, leaning in with one hand braced against his shoulder to join in kiss, his mouth meeting the juncture of Tony and Ianto’s, his tongue darting out to swipe against lips and tongues, breath hot and heavy against already over-sensitive flesh. 

Then Tony pulled away, moving his lips across Ianto’s jaw, and down his throat. Ianto moaned in disappointment, reaching out to pull him back. Tony evaded each attempt, and Jack’s mouth closed over his, tongue diving deep inside to explore every crevice and corner. Tony’s weight lifted off his thighs, but the pressure remained on the bed as he settled himself between Ianto’s legs. 

There was a clatter, and a series of bangs that Ianto recognised as Tony fishing around in his bedside cabinet drawer for the condoms and lube. Jack hadn’t recognised it though and he lifted his head, curiosity getting the better of him. It only took him a moment to realise what was happening and Ianto saw the jealousy darken his eyes. Jack was not slow on the uptake and clearly had realised that, if Tony knew his way around Ianto’s bedroom well enough that he could locate the supplies without even looking, this was not an uncommon experience. Ianto felt Jack’s grip tighten and pulled him down into another kiss, biting on his lip as he tugged it into his mouth in a silent warning that he should not do anything that would ruin this moment. 

Tony stopped rummaging in the drawers and sat up between Ianto’s legs.

“You have a preference?” he asked, holding out a fan of foil wrappers between his fingers. Jack raised his head indolently and arched an eyebrow. 

“Don’t need them,” he remarked, shrugging. “There’s nothing I can catch from or pass on to either of you.” He glanced over to Ianto and smiled weakly. “You still O.K. with that?” 

It had been a conversation that they had shared a long time ago, shortly after Jack had returned from his trip with the Doctor. Jack had admitted that by the 51st century, condoms were no longer used and that he found them horribly uncomfortable. After being assured that Jack’s healing powers extended to STIs, and deciding that he trusted that Jack would always be safe if he was sleeping with anyone else, Ianto had agreed to forego them. Although they had never talked about being exclusive, Ianto knew that he was, and as they had been in each other’s company twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week he had suspected that Jack was as well. He knew that Jack would never have suggested not using protection if he had thought there was any danger to Ianto, and so much about Jack’s demeanour suggested that he had not been intimate with anyone for quite some time. 

“Of course,” he replied, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of Jack’s lips. He turned to Tony, pushing himself up on his elbows so that he could kiss him too. “It’s safe, Tony. I promise.”

“Fine,” Tony muttered, but he didn’t loosen his grip on the condoms. Instead, he began to tear one of the foil packets open. 

Ianto sighed, he wanted to slide the condoms from between Tony’s fingers too, but their relationship had never been about exclusivity, and he knew that it never would be – a condition that he was frankly quite alright with, even if it did mean they had to continue using protection. He slid his hand over Tony’s, and leant in to kiss him again. The fog was lifting from his mind, leaving him aware that the ground that they were treading on was becoming shaky. 

When he pulled back, sinking back into the pillows, he glanced from one to the other. “Shall we get back to it then? I believe I was in the process of being well and truly fucked.”

Jack’s chuckle was close to Ianto’s ear, his breath caressing it while the tip of his tongue flicked out and slid along the shell.

“You know something?” he breathed, sucking the lobe into his mouth and bathing it with his tongue until Ianto’s mouth fell open in a gasp and his hands tightened in the bed sheets. 

“What?” he managed to gasp out, forcing his eyes open and round to Jack. The Captain’s leer was more pronounced now, and his eyes were black with lust. Ianto shifted on the bed, God, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this torment. 

“Your accent is so much thicker when you’re aroused – like it is now. You could make me come with just your voice.”

“I learnt early on that he had a gloriously filthy mouth,” Tony said, leaning across Ianto to kiss his lips. His hand ghosted across Ianto’s cock and sent a back-arching ripple of pleasure through him. 

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Ianto ground out, aware now that his accent was more pronounced than before - much more if he were to believe the sound that burst from Jack’s lips. The Captain ground himself against Ianto’s hip, pressing firmly against his thigh and nuzzling against Ianto’s throat. 

“And there it is again,” Tony said with a smirk, his fingers – now slick with lube – sliding over his hole and dipping inside. Ianto gasped, arching his back and angling his body to better accommodate Tony. His legs spread wider, his hips tilted and Tony pushed deeper inside, crooking his finger and making Ianto shift suddenly and cry out. His finger was quickly joined by a second, and then, without even any breath of warning, he scissored them. At Ianto’s moan, Jack bit down on his collarbone, hand groping at his thigh, brushing against the soft, sensitive skin. Blindly he groped until, almost as if by chance, his hand dropped into Ianto’s lap and his hand curled around Ianto’s cock. 

Ianto’s head rolled back into the pillows as Jack’s grip tightened, and a thumb ran across the head. The sensation came at the same time as the feel of Tony inside him disappeared, his fingers sliding free, landing on his thighs a moment later to push them a little further apart. The very tip of Tony’s cock brushed against Ianto’s entrance, and he barely had time to groan, let alone beg Tony to hurry, before he was breached. Tony was inside him, filling him completely, the head of his cock brushing up against his prostate. Jack’s hand was wrapped around him, heat enveloping his cock, tips of his fingers flexing against the side, caressing his balls, collecting up the precome. 

“Fuck,” Ianto breathed, all better words vanishing from his vocabulary. He breathed out, exhaling sharply and trying to rein himself in against the onslaught of sensation. His senses were in overdrive, he could even taste Jack’s pheromones, the tang of sex thick in the air, and he was certain that there wasn’t an inch of his skin that didn’t explode in a tangle of nerve endings and bliss every time Jack or Tony so much as breathed on him. 

Jack shifted beside him, his hand slipping and sliding in uncontrolled – but not unpleasant – movements across his groin. It took Ianto half a moment to realise what was happening, and he reached out to still Jack’s free hand, dropping it on the covers beside him and preventing him from reaching from his own cock. 

Jack let out a whimper, which Ianto ignored, already reaching for Jack’s erection. He was in a better position to accommodate it, sliding his fingers along the vein before wrapping his hand around the hard, familiar length, drawing it up along his cock.

Tony was thrusting inside of him, his hands clasped around his hips and his face bowed low, muffled grunts and moans bursting from his lips. Jack’s hand was pumping his cock, fingers sliding over the head and it was so damn difficult to keep his own hand moving along Jack’s erection, because the double onslaught was not something he was accustomed to. 

His heart was slamming up against his ribcage, his breath coming in fast, frantic gasps, the heady thrill of endorphins clogging up his brain and preventing him from thinking of anything with any clarity. Slick with sweat, heat spreading through his body, pooling at his groin and heightening every nerve, every inch of flesh until he was a quivering, moaning wreck. Ianto groaned, head tilting back into the pillows, and his back arching as Jack drew his lips over a nipple and up into the hollow of his throat. Tony’s lips - and he could tell the difference if only from the presence of scratchy stubble and beard - were only centimetres from his skin, breath caressing his jaw line, the shell of his ear as he panted out Ianto’s name. 

Ianto flexed his wrist again and Jack’s head tilted back, his come spurting over Ianto’s hand, Ianto’s name on his lips. It caught Ianto by surprise. He had been prepared for a longer-lasting encounter from Jack. Jack’s hand had stilled on Ianto’s cock as tremors had wracked his body, but now, as his breathing began to settle into a more regular rhythm, he crept closer and his hand began to slide up and down Ianto’s erection once more. 

Ianto closed his eyes, knowing that he was dangling on the very edge but wanting to cling to it for just a little longer. He would never get this opportunity again, never even get close, and he wanted to make the most of it. It was hard to keep hold of what remained of his composure though, near impossible when Tony was still buried inside him, and Jack’s hand was caressing him.

“Come for me,” Jack’s words slid across his skin, his voice a little more than a murmur, a breath of air on his ear. It was just as Tony leant over him, changing the angle of his thrusts, his lips latching onto one hardened nipple. His tongue circled around it, flicking out over the tip and Ianto could take no more. 

His whole body seemed to tense, his head rolling back into the pillows and white light flaring behind his eyes. Breath catching in his throat and then tearing out in a wild, wordless cry, unable to feel anything other than Tony buried inside of him, Jack’s hands on his skin and their lips kissing him, Ianto felt as if the whole world was exploding around him and all that was left were the three of them, and the bed they lay on. Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, he was aware of Tony’s own orgasm, triggered by the sudden clench of muscles around him - but everything was a distant echo, dull and listless, something that Ianto never wanted to return to. 

The feeling ebbed away, and Ianto took in two huge gulps of air, settling back into the covers and opening his eyes. His body was still feeling the after-effects, still tingling where Jack’s fingers ran against his skin, but that too was fading with every passing second.

“Oh God,” he breathed. “That was...”

He’d used the term mindblowing before, but compared to this that now seemed like an understatement. There weren’t even words to explain this. He felt Tony slide out from inside of him, rolling to one side in a mirror to Jack’s position. They lay there for a moment, completely entwined, as their breathing slowly returned to normal, and their hearts stopped trying to burst from their ribcages. 

Tony shifted first, rolling to one side and snagging the box of tissues from the bedside table. He pulled out a handful and passed them to Jack and Ianto. Ianto blinked at them for a moment, still too dazed to comprehend, but gradually he became aware of the stickiness of his hand, and his belly and he reached up to take a couple of the tissues. Wiping himself clean he sat up in bed and leant over Tony to toss them into the bin before returning to his previous position. 

He had only just got comfortable again when Jack shifted beside him. For a moment Ianto thought that he was just rolling over but then Jack slid closer to the edge of the bed. It had been a common occurrence in the early days of their relationship, and in its last few weeks, and Ianto was determined that this time – if he was never going to have Jack this close again – that Jack would stay the night. 

His hand shot out and curled around Jack’s wrist pulling him back. He waited until Jack turned to him, meeting his gaze, before speaking. “Stay, please.” 

Jack hesitated, glancing over to Tony. “I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

There was a look in his eyes that Ianto recognised, one that suggested that Jack was denying himself something that he wanted in an act of penance. Ianto tugged on his wrist. “Come back to bed, Jack. I want you to stay.” He cast a glance over his shoulder to Tony. “I want you both to stay.”

He turned his gaze back to Jack and smiled hopefully. After a moment’s hesitation Jack returned the smile and then clambered back into bed. He slid back into his previous position, lying on his side beside Ianto. Ianto rolled towards him, snuggling back against Tony’s chest as he made himself comfortable. The bedroom light was flicked off and the room was plunged into the almost-darkness of the city. It wasn’t late but Ianto was exhausted, and cocooned in the warmth of Jack and Tony, soothed by their presence, he soon found himself falling asleep.

*

Ianto woke the next morning to the scent of Jack’s pheromones clinging to the air. He lifted his head, blinking in the harsh light streaming in from between the chink in the curtains, and peered up at the Captain.

“You’re still here?” he said, unsure why he was surprised at that. It had been clear from the start that this was more than a one night stand, a last encounter for old times’ sake. Still, Jack being there when he woke was such a rare occurrence even when they were together that he found it hard to believe he had stayed now. 

Jack smiled, rolling into a more comfortable position. “I didn’t think it was fair to travel all this way and then leave without so much as a goodbye.” 

Ianto felt his heart sink. “You’re leaving so soon?”

He didn’t want to have this conversation now. He didn’t want to have it ever. He had left without saying goodbye the last time only because he had known that he would never be able to have that conversation with Jack. He flicked a glance around the room, searching for something to change the topic. The empty space behind him provided one.

”Where’s Tony?” His eyes strayed to the alarm clock behind Jack’s head and he sat bolt upright. “Shit, I’m late for work. Will you still be here when I get home tonight?” 

“Ianto.”

Ianto looked down, to where Jack’s hand was wrapped tightly around his. Jack smiled, hesitant.

“He left early,” he explained. “Said that we obviously needed to talk and that you weren’t to go into work today. He left you a note.”

Ianto turned, looking over his shoulder in the direction Jack had gestured. There, on the pillow was a piece of paper bearing his name. It was still folded neatly, clearly having not been tampered with. Reaching over and picking it up Ianto arched an eyebrow at Jack. 

“There was a time when you would have looked at my private mail.”

Jack grinned, looking a little sheepish. “Well, we were in a relationship then. I knew you wouldn’t mind. Now, you’re with him, not me, so it’s none of my business.”

Ianto smiled at Jack’s presumption that his mail had ever been any of his business, but he said nothing of it. Nor did he try to deny the status of his relationship with Tony. That it was casual was the last thing he was going to admit to because if he did, he would have to explain why – and that was a complicated mess that he wished to avoid.

He opened the letter and scanned its contents, smiling to himself. Tony had written nothing more than a few words confirming the offer of a day off so that he could talk to Jack, and an instruction to call him if he needed anything. 

“He’s good for you,” Jack commented.

The smile slipped from Ianto’s face, guilt slicing through him and pooling in the pit of his stomach. Why, he wasn’t sure, because he shouldn’t be feeling guilt over this. Jack was the past and Tony his somewhat unconventional present – and he had done nothing to inspire such feelings. 

“He’s better for you than I ever was,” Jack continued. “Safer. He makes you smile too.”

Ianto snorted, and rolled his eyes. In his maudlin state, Jack had apparently forgotten all the good times they had shared. There had been no lack of smiles and laughter while they had been together; it was only after Tosh and Owen had died that they had faded away. Deciding not to quibble over details, Ianto went for the less querulous route

“It’s hardly safe. True, I don’t go looking for danger these days, but it still finds me from time to time.” The amusement dropped from his face and he shook his head, squeezing Jack’s hand and catching his eye. “And I never wanted anyone better than you.”

Jack’s reply was small and bitter. “You still left.” 

Ianto sighed, rolling onto his back and sitting up. No matter what he said, this conversation wasn’t going to wait any longer. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I can’t do this, Jack, not without a coffee at least.”

Ignoring Jack’s protest, Ianto climbed out of his bed and bent to rummage in his drawer for some clean underwear. He tugged the briefs on and rose to his feet, snatching his dressing gown from the back of the bedroom door as he passed and pulling it on. In the kitchenette he took two fresh mugs from the cupboard and set them heavily on the countertop, slamming doors as he searched for everything he would need to make the coffee. 

He didn’t realise that Jack had followed him until he turned. He was surprised to find him stood, fully dressed, right in front of him, and nearly dropped the bag of sugar all over his kitchen floor.

“Whoa!” Jack reached out and caught Ianto’s hands, steadying them. Ianto jerked slightly at the contact, but remained where he was, refusing to give Jack more ammunition by backing away. It would seem like he was running, running from all attempts at physical contact without even giving Jack the opportunity to make things right. The way Jack was reacting right now, with all his insecurities very much on show, Ianto wouldn’t have been surprised if diverting the conversation further only made things worse. 

“Ianto, I’m sorry,” Jack said after a moment. “I shouldn’t keep throwing that in your face. It was unfair of me.”

He released Ianto’s hands and took a step backwards, putting some space between them. His eyes darted around the kitchenette, settling eventually on the two mugs sitting on the worktop. 

“No,” Ianto said calmly, turning back to the coffee machine. “You shouldn’t. I explained last night why I left, Jack. Can you really blame me for doing so?”

“No,” Jack admitted. “No, I can’t – especially not when it was my intention to drive you away from me – and from Torchwood.” 

“What?” Ianto turned on his heel, capable of only gaping at Jack.

He had known only that the Captain was no longer interested in him, only in using him for release, but he had always assumed the neglect to be unconscious. To learn that it was not was another thing entirely, and it stung. Ianto’s gut twisted painfully and bile rose in the back of his throat.

“So you just came here for what exactly? If you didn’t want me around anymore then why couldn’t you have just retconned me?”

He had meant to shout, to scream his rage out at its cause, but all that came out was a hoarse rasp. He sounded hurt rather than angry, and Ianto hated himself for that weakness. 

“Because I didn’t want to lose you completely!” Jack’s voice broke as he shouted, and he sagged back against the cupboards, lowering his gaze to the floor, directing his words to the tiles. “Ianto, we’d just lost Tosh and Owen – I’d just lost Gray again - and I couldn’t face the knowledge that I might lose you as well.” He broke off, his voice hitching. “You are too young to die, far too young. I pushed you away because I thought that was the only way of getting you to leave. If you believed that I didn’t care about you anymore, that what we shared was nothing to me... then you’d leave, and you’d be safe and I wouldn’t be hurt all over again.” Jack shrugged, glancing up at Ianto sheepishly. “It didn’t really work out. It still hurt when you left.”

Ianto swallowed the diatribe he had prepared about being an adult who could make his own decisions. Hadn’t Jack just repeated exactly what he had said the night before, mirroring Ianto’s fears with his own? Besides, the idea that Jack had simply stopped caring had hurt, and this new knowledge made Ianto’s heart lighten. Before he could start scolding himself for always being a fool where Jack was concerned, he stepped back, crossing his arms across his chest, voicing the other question that had been on his mind since Jack had re-entered his life. 

“If it hurt so much why didn’t you come after me?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “I’d got what I wanted, Ianto. You were safer here than you could have ever been with me.” His smile faded as he continued. “That didn’t prevent me from being selfish when things got tough, though. There were times when I really needed you, Ianto, and I wanted you to just walk through the door and when you didn’t...”

Ianto unfolded his arms and he took a step away. “You could hardly expect me to...”

“Wait, please,” Jack interrupted, taking Ianto’s hand in-between his own. “I know – and I’m not blaming you for not doing so. I hardly inspired any feelings of loyalty in you.”

Ianto shook his head, determined not to allow Jack to leave believing that. Ianto’s loyalty was fierce, and once earned it would take a tremendous amount for it to be lost. Even now, Ianto would have walked into the mouth of hell rather than betray Jack.

“I would have come back if I’d been able,” he said, “But the government were out to get me, and even then, I was needed here. And then after, when everything was over, you’d already vanished.”

Jack shrugged and pulled away from Ianto, his expression shuttering. “I couldn’t stay there,” he muttered. “I saved the world, but I lost everything in the process. Again.”

Ianto sighed, stepping up behind Jack and placing the palm of his hand in the small of his back. Firmly but gently, he turned the Captain to face him, tilting up his head to force him to meet his eyes “I was sorry to hear about your grandson, and your daughter, Jack, but you didn’t lose everything. You still have Gwen – and me.”

Jack shook his head, “I had no idea whether you would welcome me, especially after all I’ve done, and I couldn’t stand to be near Gwen right then. Seeing her excitement over the baby, knowing that she had everything that I can never have – I couldn’t bear it.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite carry to his eyes. “It’s about as much as I can bear seeing you here, with someone else – someone who can grow old with you and give you everything that I can’t.”

Ianto sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to admit anything about his and Tony’s relationship to Jack. It was embarrassing enough that he was still in love with the man months after ending things between them; it would be worse to actually say it out loud. And yes, last night had proven one thing: he did love Jack. However much he cared for Tony, Ianto was well aware that he was simply using him as a substitute, and vice versa. There would never be anyone quite like Jack, and Ianto knew that there was nothing that Jack could do that he would not forgive eventually. He didn’t care who called him a fool, for he had berated himself with that title many a time. 

“We’re not like that, me and Tony. It’s not a relationship, anyway. Nothing complicated – that’s all we wanted.” Ianto was well aware that he was rambling and he decided to cut straight to the point. “I’m not sure it would be fair for me to enter into a relationship with anyone else, Jack. While I won’t deny that I do care for him, what I have with Tony is... convenient, nothing more. The truth is that you’re a hard man to forget.”

Jack’s eyes positively sparkled at that, although he was clearly trying hard to keep the grin from his face. “You’d consider coming with me then?”

“What?” Ianto took a step back away from Jack, holding him at arm’s length. “Go where with you? Jack, what are talking about?”

Jack pulled away from him and began to pace. There wasn’t really room in the small kitchen, and Ianto stepped back, elbows brushing against the coffee machine and reminding him that he had never finished making it.

“I can’t stay here, Ianto. This planet has too many memories for me – and I can’t face them any longer. I need to go, find some other planet to haunt for a couple of decades. This is my last stop before I head back to Cardiff to say goodbye to Gwen, then I’m getting on a cruiser and getting as far away from here as possible.”

He stopped, taking hold of Ianto’s shoulders and staring deep into his eyes.

“That’s why I came here, Ianto. I want you to come with me. I can show you so much. You’d love it out there, finally seeing where all those things you archived came from – all the places that we could go.”

It was intense, like it had always been with Jack: a wild ride with nothing to hold onto and every chance that you might be swept away and lost forever. Ianto could picture everything that Jack was saying, and he wanted to experience it, to know what life was like on another world. The yes was on the tip of his tongue, ready to burst from his lips, but he didn’t let it loose. A question hung in his mind: what would happen if Jack did lose interest in him when surrounded by many more wonderful options. It was only inevitable, surely? His silence crept on a moment too long and the light in Jack’s eyes dimmed and he took a step back.

“No, of course. It was a stupid idea.” Jack continued to back away. 

“It isn’t,” Ianto lied, although his heart sank as he said goodbye to the brief possibility of seeing the universe, of seeing the stars and other worlds with Jack. But however tempting the possibility, he couldn’t just up and leave. “But I have responsibilities here, Jack – a job that I enjoy, and Tony. We might not be in a relationship but he still needs me. I can’t just leave, I’d have to give notice and help him find a suitable replacement.”

“Right,” Jack said, his expression closed. “You’ve made your choice. I suppose there’s no point me staying then. I have a plane to catch.”

He turned on his heel, leaving Ianto wondering what had just happened. He took a hurried step forward and caught hold of Jack’s arm. 

“Jack, no, wait...”

Jack turned, raising one eyebrow and Ianto hated seeing the glimmer of hope reignite in his eyes.

“Don’t leave like this,” Ianto murmured. “If this is the last time I’m going to see you then I don’t want us to part like this.”

The hope in Jack’s eyes faded, but he smiled and stepped back towards Ianto. “No, nor do I.” He shook his head, “I suppose it was too much to hope that you’d be willing to drop everything to come with me.” 

“Jack,” Ianto warned, raising a hand to stymie the Captain’s plea. He couldn’t turn Jack down again, that much he knew, but nor could he agree to tour the universe with him. It would not be fair on Tony, nor could he stand to suffer more heartbreak in the future. “Please don’t. How long is it until you have to leave?”

Jack’s eyes flickered to a spot over Ianto’s shoulder, to where Ianto knew there was a wall clock. “I didn’t lie; I really have to leave now if I want to catch my flight. Asking you to join me... it’s what I came here for, but I hadn’t anticipated it being so hard. That’s why I left it until the last minute. I should have asked straight away and given you more chance to think about it.”

Ianto listened to Jack ramble for a moment or two, allowing his thoughts to settle in his mind. Two things were clear: one, that Jack was leaving, and two, that he couldn’t go with him. These few moments were the last he would spend with Jack – ever – and he wasn’t going to let them pass in argument and bitterness.

“Shut up, Jack,” Ianto said. Reaching up, he cupped Jack’s face in his hands and pulled him into a kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues entwined as Ianto poured every thought, every last feeling into the kiss. If Jack was going to leave, if he was never going to see him again then Ianto was damn well sure that he would leave knowing that he was loved, that he would always be loved. 

Even when he finally, reluctantly broke the kiss, Ianto clung to Jack, not wanting to let him go. Holding him close, fingers tangled in the cloth of his t-shirt, he brushed another kiss against Jack’s lips.

“Don’t go,” he murmured. “You can stay here, with me and Tony.”

Jack laughed, but his expression was wistful. “You know as well as I do that Tony and I would be butting heads in a matter of minutes.”

“Yeah,” Ianto admitted reluctantly.

Jack was right, his suggestion was horribly predictable. There was no way that Jack and Tony would ever be able to live and work together without coming to blows. The sex would be fantastic, but he was well aware that he would spend as much time listening to arguments as he would in bed. 

“And I can’t,” Jack continued. “Like I said before, I’ve done all I can for this planet and got nothing in return. You’re the one person I would consider staying for, Ianto, but you don’t need me to, and I think it’s better for us both that I let you go. I’m not going to find that easy, though. I don’t think I ever managed the first time.”

Ianto swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Likewise,” he murmured. “If you ever change your mind...”

He let the words hang in the air, knowing that Jack would catch their meaning. 

Jack smiled. “If I change my mind, your doorstep will be the first place I’ll be. The second will be your bed.”

Ianto laughed, but he knew that the chances of Jack coming back were non-existent. Jack had had his fill of this world, so why, with everything out there, would he ever want to come back? He wouldn’t, and certainly not for Ianto. With a shrug, Ianto turned away from Jack, unable to meet his gaze. “That is if you don’t forget me.”

“Never gonna happen,” Jack said, sounding suddenly fierce, and his grip on Ianto’s hips tightened. He reached out, lifting Ianto’s chin to force him to meet his eyes. “I swear it, Ianto. A thousand years and I’ll still remember you. You’re a hard man to forget.” 

Ianto blinked, his eyes feeling suddenly damp. He raised his hand to scrub at them with the back of his eyes. Damn it, but he had spent enough of his tears on Jack and he wouldn’t add to them – not for something like this. Although he supposed that saying goodbye to Jack forever was something to be upset over, and Jack wasn’t helping matters by turning his own words back on him. 

Jack’s fingers trailed across his jaw line and then his lips brushed against his mouth. “Ianto,” he sighed, his breath ghosting against Ianto’s lips. “If I stay much longer then I’m going to miss my plane.”

Jack slid his hand into Ianto’s hair and kissed him. It was brief, chaste, the prelude to nothing. It was a goodbye, and Ianto knew it. When Jack pulled away, Ianto could see the regret in his eyes, and he longed to kiss him again, to pull him into his arms and beg him not to leave. Jack would never agree, though, and Ianto would not put himself through the pain of being denied a second time. 

Jack’s hands finally fell away from him and he stepped away, leaving Ianto cold. He smiled, his eyes looking suspiciously damp as he smoothed down his leather jacket. 

“I love you, Ianto Jones, I never stopped.” Jack murmured, so quietly that Ianto wasn’t sure that he had heard him correctly. “Goodbye.”

Ianto couldn’t say anything, his throat had closed up and he felt that if he even attempted to speak he would break down. That was what he had always wanted to hear, wasn’t it? But how could he say anything and then watch Jack walk out of his life forever. He couldn’t. 

The light in Jack’s eyes dimmed again, and he turned on his heel and walked away. Ianto watched him retreat for just a moment before realising that he had never answered. Jack’s footsteps clicked along the corridor, retreating and then the door closed – not with a slam, but with a dull thud that sounded like finality. It was all Ianto needed to find his voice.

“Jack -” his voice cracked, the word coming out as a croak. He pushed himself away from the counter and hurried after Jack, down the hall and up to the apartment door. 

He pulled it open, peering along the corridor in search of the Captain but it was empty. Jack had already vanished. He was too late. 

Swallowing a curse, Ianto closed his door behind him, slamming it a little forcefully. He could have gone after Jack, he knew that, but he also knew that Jack was better at disappearing than anyone he knew. Besides, he couldn’t just go tearing off after him in his dressing gown. 

He sank down on his sofa and dropped his head into his hands. Tears burned the back of his eyes but he blinked them back, refusing to allow himself any solace. Jack had come here to tell him that he was still loved, and he had done nothing even to acknowledge that, let alone show that he returned those feelings. 

But what would be the point of doing either? It would have only awakened more heartache when they had said goodbye, and surely knowing that Ianto had felt the same would have made Jack more persistent in his requests – requests that he would have to turn down. Ianto knew that he had probably hurt Jack more deeply than he would ever let on, and that knowledge didn’t sit right with him. What was worse was knowing that he was never going to be able to make it up to Jack. If Jack remembered him in years to come – if he even bothered to try – then he would remember this, and that was the last thing that Ianto had wanted. 

After everything that had happened with the children, Ianto had longed for some way of making things with Jack right, and he had been granted that chance. Second chances were rare, and Ianto knew that he wouldn’t get another. 

He would have to face it: he and Jack were over. There was no coming back from something like this. 

 

It was gone midday when Tony returned. Ianto looked up when the door opened, scrambling to his feet and hurrying to the hallway, wondering if it was Jack returning, having changed his mind. The disappointment he felt inside must have been clear on his face, if Tony’s faint smile was anything to go by. 

“Thought I was someone else, did you? Has he gone?”

Ianto nodded, sinking back on the sofa. “Two hours ago, he had a plane to catch.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And then a lift off the planet to God knows where.”

Tony came to sit beside him, perching on the edge of the cushion. He rested his hand on Ianto’s thigh, his fingers rubbing a soothing pattern against it. Ianto leant closer to Tony, craving comfort, however little he felt that he deserved any. It shouldn’t have been up to Tony to clean up Jack’s messes, but here he was doing it without complaint. 

Tony’s fingers stilled and he sat back on the sofa, his expression contemplative. “So this was what? A goodbye?” he said after a moment had passed in silence. “Least he thought you were important enough to tell – good thing too after how worried you’ve been over him these last few months.”

“He asked me to go with him.”

Tony’s voice faltered at Ianto’s words. For a long while he didn’t say anything, and Ianto began to fret that he would rise and leave. Eventually though, he shook his head. “I’m assuming, since you’re still here, that you turned him down?”

Ianto nodded, glancing at Tony out of the corner of his eye in an attempt to gauge his reaction. It was easier with Tony than it had ever been with Jack. The man had his secrets, yes, but he was not as good at hiding his initial reactions to bad news. 

Tony’s eyes widened, his brows settling into a perfect arch. “You’re telling me that Captain Jack Harkness – the man you’re in love with – asked you to go with you to see the stars and you turned him down?”

Tony began to shake his head, staring at Ianto with incredulity. Ianto returned the stare with equal surprise, having never expected this reaction from Tony, surprise, maybe, but never in this amount. 

“Honestly, Jones, I offer a fantastic mental health plan, but I didn’t expect you to need it.”

Ianto shook his head, shifting away from Tony’s hands. He couldn’t explain himself with Tony’s hands touching him. It wasn’t right to accept Tony’s comfort when he was going to tell him that he had nearly left him without so much as a goodbye. It would seem a betrayal, after everything that Tony had done for him, and that was not fair. Even that knowledge came as a dim afterthought. Everything outside of his thoughts seemed just a faint echo, because nothing could quite penetrate the fog of emotion.

Besides, Tony’s words had touched a raw nerve. Ianto had expected some reaction, but not one that suggested that Tony might not have been too disappointed to see him gone. After all, it was partly because of Tony that he had turned Jack down. He had not played as large a part as Ianto’s own fears had, but he had played a part nonetheless. 

“I’m not crazy,” he replied. “I turned him down because I have a life here, responsibilities. I can’t just abandon them for him.”

“Course you can,” Stark shrugged. “Sure, I’d miss you, but some things are more important than fantastic coffee. I can’t think of many, but having someone who loves you that much - that’s something to be envied.”

Had Jack not said those words then Ianto would have denied Tony’s statement there and then, but with them still ringing in his ears, he found that he could not. Instead he floundered for an alternative. “He might love me now, but how am I to know he won’t change his mind and abandon me on some distant planet where I don’t even speak the language?”

“No,” Tony shook his head. “I’ve only known the guy five minutes but I can tell he’s not the type to do that.”

Ianto nodded. He knew, deep in his gut, that Tony was right. Jack wouldn’t go so far as to abandon him someplace remote and far from home - but that wasn’t to say that Ianto wouldn’t be proven correct eventually. How could Jack stay interested in him even when he became old and grey?

“Let’s just look at the facts,” Tony continued. “He tracked you down after all this time and he wanted to take you with him. That doesn’t seem like something that he would do if he wasn’t all that interested.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ianto said, although he was beginning to feel as if it did matter very much. He was starting to feel a little queasy, his stomach churning uncomfortably. “Like I said before, it wouldn’t be fair for me to leave.”

“Yeah, it would.” Tony replied. “I can find someone to do your job easily enough. They probably won’t do it as well but that can’t be helped. And if you’re talking about our personal life, well, we both know that this was never anything but a convenience. I’m not saying I won’t miss you, but I don’t want you to stay out of any loyalty to me. I know I can’t offer you anything like he can, not even close. I don’t want you staying here and regretting it for the rest of your life – and believe me, an opportunity like that? You will end up regretting letting it pass you by.”

Ianto swallowed around the lump in his throat that Tony’s words had engendered. He raised his head, turning towards Tony, and shook his head, unable to stick to the lie any longer.

“I’ve made a mistake, haven’t I?”

“I’d say so,” Tony nodded. His hand slid across the sofa to grasp Ianto’s hands. “Is it too late to put it right?”

Ianto glanced at the clock, shaking his head. “He’ll be in the air now. I don’t even know which airport he was flying to and even if I did I’d never get there in time.” He lowered his gaze, trying to concentrate on the pattern in the wooden flooring instead of on his emotions. “He’s long gone.”

“Your problem is that you lack faith,” Tony said, and the smirk that oozed into his voice made Ianto raise his head to stare at him blankly, “And lacking confidence in my genius is always a mistake.” He pulled out his PDA, pressing a couple of buttons. “JARVIS, run a search on all the passenger lists on planes leaving LAX today for a Captain Jack Harkness.”

“He probably won’t be travelling under that name,” Ianto interrupted, dully. He didn’t know what Tony was planning, but he couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for a plan that was probably doomed to fail from the outset. “Try James Harper too, he likes that name. I don’t know why you’re trying, though - even if we did find him there’s no way we can catch him up. He’d be long gone by the time we touched down.”

“No faith,” Tony tutted, giving Ianto’s hand a quick squeeze. “Just be patient.”

It didn’t take JARVIS long to get back to them, and the news he provided was surprising. “There are no passengers of either name flying today,” the computer replied. “There are, however, two seats booked for a Mister John Hopper and a Mister Ianto Jones. Only one was taken. The flight departed at 1300 hours and will arrive in Amsterdam later tonight; from there it appears that John Hopper will continue on to Cardiff.”

“That’s him,” Ianto breathed, the knowledge that Jack had booked him a seat twisting his gut. Jack couldn’t have been certain that Ianto would take him up on his offer, but he had clearly had all of his hopes dashed. Ianto hated to think of him sitting alone, with the empty seat beside him a constant reminder that Ianto had spurned him.

Tony stopped typing on his PDA and abruptly stood up, tucking it back into his pocket. “You’ve got thirty minutes to pack. I want you waiting outside when I return.”

He turned and began to stride towards the door. 

“But...” Ianto faltered, unsure of what to say. He was certain that Tony’s madcap plan would fail, and unwilling to get his hopes up to far for fear of getting his heart broken all over again. Tony was letting himself get carried away, and Ianto didn’t think that anything he said would derail him now. He wasn’t even sure that was what he wanted. 

Tony stopped, turning back to face him. “You’ve already admitted that you made a mistake. Clearly you want to go after him and let him show you the stars.” Tony stepped closer, bending to brush a kiss over Ianto’s lips. “Don’t worry about the rest of your things. I can arrange to have them stored in case you ever want to come back for them.”

“Tony, please. I can’t take this. We’re too late. He’s gone.” Ianto shook his head, refusing to be taken in by Tony’s demands. He knew he had been a fool to turn down Jack’s offer, and he regretted that decision now but he knew when something was a lost cause, and this was one.

“Yeah, he is,” Tony acknowledged. “But he’s also got to change in Amsterdam – and my jet is faster than any commercial plane out there. We’ll be at Cardiff airport waiting for him long before he touches down. Now,” he kissed Ianto again, his tongue brushing over his lips. “Stop worrying and let me handle everything.”

Without another word he turned on his heel and headed from the room. Ianto watched until the door had clicked shut behind him and then slowly rose to his feet, a smile flickering across his face and lingering. If everything went to plan – if they beat Jack to Cardiff, if Jack still wanted his company – then he would be going into space! He was about to realise a dream that he’d had even before he had seen any of the wonder that other worlds could produce. It had seemed rude to even entertain the possibility of going with Tony still in the room, but with him gone, and with the chance seeming very real – even if a part of Ianto continued to doubt it was even possible – he couldn’t help but allow himself a small burst of hope. 

Buoyed by a new energy and with his heart hammering in his chest, Ianto hurried into his bedroom to pack a bag. He wouldn’t be able to take much, and the things he could take would have to be selected carefully for practicality, but he wasn’t sure where to even begin. What would he need in space? Not laptops or mobiles, surely, but clothing – perhaps a suit. Jack would like that. Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, Ianto lowered his head down into his hands. The excitement diminished slightly, the reality hitting him. He was going into space, and he had no idea what he would need to take. Would Jack think him foolish if he turned up lacking something important? Ianto knew that he couldn’t pack for every eventuality but he couldn’t even begin to imagine where he could start. 

Twenty five minutes until he had to leave, and the bag lay stubbornly empty. Ianto knew that he would have to move quickly to be ready before Tony returned. Pushing himself to his feet he turned to his wardrobe and rifled through it, searching for the suit Jack had dubbed his ‘cute suit’. That, if nothing else, would be an essential.

*

“This is stupid,” Ianto muttered, craning his neck to see over the crowd waiting at the arrivals gate. “We don’t even know if he’s on this plane – and even if he is, what am I meant to do? He could have changed his mind, decided to take someone else.”

He had been on edge ever since the plane had touched down, unable to sit still for more than a matter of minutes. Nerves or excitement kept getting the better of him and he would spring up onto his feet and begin pacing once more. He had no idea how Tony had stood to be around him, especially on the plane where there had been no escape. Somehow, he had approached the situation with a patience that Ianto had never known he could exhibit. 

“I doubt it,” Tony said, lounging in one of the plastic chairs just behind him, occasionally shifting in an attempt to get comfortable. “I can’t believe people don’t complain about this more. Airports have really gone downhill.”

Ianto glanced over, rolling his eyes at Tony’s attempts to steer the conversation in another direction. “And when was the last time you travelled in anything other than a private jet? That’s hardly going to cause you to spend a good deal of time in airports.”

He shifted the straps on his holdall and craned for a better view. There was still no sign of Jack, and Ianto’s fears that he was not going to show up returned. His plane had landed some thirty minutes ago, and Ianto suspected that Jack would have travelled light, and thus had not had to go through baggage collection. Where was he then? Ianto rose onto his tiptoes to search the crowds again. 

“Five years ago,” Tony replied. “Big leather seats, bar, lots of people in suits. This is nothing like that one.”

Ianto raised his eyebrows. “I imagine that first class is always remarkably different.” He muttered a curse as someone stepped into his view and shifted position, trying to see past them. “Maybe that’s why he hasn’t come out this way, maybe there’s a different gate for first class passengers.”

“Hey,” Tony leapt to his feet and closed the gap between them, taking hold of Ianto’s arm and drawing him to one side, out of sight of the gate. “You want to try relaxing for a moment? You’ll know when he arrives, trust me – just follow the stares. Now come and sit down for a minute.”

Ianto went to join him, perching on the edge of his seat and fiddling with the straps of his bag, unable to help taking another glance in the direction of the gate. Tony’s arm draped around his shoulders, and he shifted closer, his breath tickling Ianto’s ear as he murmured. “Anyone would think that you couldn’t wait to leave me.”

“No!” Ianto’s eyes widened and he span around to face Tony. He shook his head. Having to leave Tony was the only downside to his situation. Hurting him in the process was the last thing he had wanted to do. “No, that’s not it at all. Is that how it seems?”

Tony raised his eyebrow. “You’ve barely said a word to me since we landed, not to mention the fact you won’t sit down beside me. Yeah, to anyone else, that’s exactly what it looks like.” His expression softened, and he smiled, giving Ianto a sharp squeeze. “I get it, you’re nervous, but you’ve nothing to worry about. He’ll come through those doors any moment now.”

Ianto was not convinced that Tony was not offended; he was moved by a deep need to explain himself. “I don’t want to leave you, Tony,” he murmured. “You’ve been good to me and you deserve better than to be abandoned like this. If I thought you’d say yes then I’d try to persuade you to join us.”

Tony shifted closer to him, the squeeze of his hand confirming that he was not offended. “As tempting as the offer is – I mean, last night was something else – I’d have to turn you down. Me and Harkness, that’s a powder keg waiting to explode.” Tony chuckled. “And besides, I’ve work to do here. I can’t just abandon that.” He nudged Ianto gently with his shoulder. “Not sure how I’m going to cope without you, though.”

Ianto squirmed, leaning into Tony’s embrace, unable to prevent the stab of guilt. Leaving Tony would inconvenience a lot of people and would probably cost Stark Industries a great deal of time and money. 

“What will you do without me, though?”

The question needed asking, although Ianto wasn’t certain that he wanted to hear the answer. It would probably only increase his guilt at leaving if he were to hear that Tony did not have any plans for his replacement. 

Tony rolled his shoulders in a shrug, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I suspected that you might choose to leave when I heard that Harkness had appeared. So, I had JARVIS look up Miss Potts before I came to yours. She’s living in New York and doesn’t appear to be seeing anyone. I thought I might track her down, buy her something expensive. Try to convince her to come back. With all my charm how could she ever resist me?” 

His eyes twinkled but Ianto could see the worry buried behind the confidence, the fear that Pepper might not take him back. He gave Tony’s hand a quick squeeze, knowing that he could offer him at least a little comfort. There was a striking parallel in their situations, and now that Ianto understood his, he could lend some wisdom to Tony’s. 

“Jack told me that he pushed me away because he was scared that I would get hurt. Is that what happened with you?”

“I never wanted to risk her being used against me.” Tony admitted. “She would have been eventually. It was inevitable.” He shrugged, again, and turned his body to face Ianto. “I don’t think it matters where she is, though: I’m always going to care for her and that makes her a target.”

Ianto contemplated his answer for a second, turning over the words in an effort to establish exactly how helpful they would be. In the end, he decided that neither he nor Tony had anything more to lose. 

“I think,” he began, “That if she’s anything like me, she’s probably just waiting for you to realise that you’ve made a mistake and come after her.” He glanced in the direction of the arrivals gate. “I think I know now that I was always just waiting for Jack. Go to her, tell her you’ve made a mistake and be willing to beg for her forgiveness. If she loves you – and I’m sure that she does – then you won’t have to wait very long.”

“You sound so certain of that,” Tony said, sounding as if he doubted it himself.

Ianto leant back into his embrace and smiled. “Didn’t I tell you that I know everything?” he teased. “I sound certain because I am. If she didn’t love you, then you pushing her away wouldn’t have hurt her so badly. She wouldn’t have left you because she thought you were being an unfair employer - that alone proves that her feelings ran deeper than that. You need to go to her, and let her know what a mistake you made in letting her go.”

“Letting her go was a colossal mistake,” Tony agreed. Then he smiled. “But I suppose if I hadn’t I would never have met you, and that would also be a mistake.”

“Of course,” Ianto said, arching one eyebrow. “It would have been a disaster for me not to have met you. I could have gone a single day without being harassed in the work place.”

Despite his sarcasm he leant forward and brushed a kiss over Tony’s cheek. 

Tony jerked suddenly, breaking the contact. Ianto frowned and pulled away, a little hurt by the rejection. A question of why was on his lips. Surely Tony could not see a simple kiss as an impediment to regaining Pepper’s affections? 

“Hey,” Tony said, gesturing towards the arrival gates. “Isn’t that him there?”

Ianto span around, following Tony’s gaze towards the arrivals gate, all offence forgiven as he laid eyes on Jack. His heart leapt to his mouth, breath catching as he watched the Captain weave his way towards the exit. 

Jack’s head was bowed, hands buried deep in his pockets and the expression on his face more despondent than Ianto had ever seen it. Ianto was on his feet in a moment, pushing through the crowd as he rushed to Jack’s side. All his previous concerns were forgotten, lost in his urgency to reach Jack’s and erase that look from his face. It was the only thing that mattered, even if Jack no longer wanted to take him along, even if he wanted no more to do with him, Ianto only wanted him to go knowing that one person on the planet still cared about him, still loved him enough to cross the world just to tell him that. 

He caught up with him just as Jack broke free of the crowd around the arrivals gate, grabbing hold of his arm and spinning him around. Jack’s eyes widened and his mouth opened to form words he could not give voice to. The hope that flickered in his eyes spoke for him, and Ianto knew that if he faltered now he would not get another chance. 

He spoke for both of them, before the silence could extend for too long. “Is it too late to change my mind?”

Jack didn’t answer at first, but the reason for his hesitation suddenly became clear, as he reached out, his fingers tracing along Ianto’s hairline. As they touched solid flesh, Jack’s other hand crept out caressed Ianto’s cheek and he smiled.

Just as quickly, his smile faded a little and his forehead wrinkled, and he took a step away from him. “But you can’t be here, there’s no way you would have got here so quickly.”

Ianto stepped forward, forestalling Jack’s retreat and reached out to grab his hand. He had a good idea what was bothering Jack.

“I’m here,” he murmured, bringing Jack’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Tony’s jet is faster than any commercial flight, and we could travel direct.” He smiled against Jack’s knuckles. “I have to admit, this wasn’t quite the reaction I was expecting, and you’ve still not answered my question.”

“What question?” Jack still sounded dazed, his eyes still firmly rooted on Ianto’s face.

Ianto rolled his eyes, although he should have guessed that Jack would have been too startled by his reappearance and not have heard the question. “I asked if I was too late to change my mind.”

Jack’s eyes blew wide, and he reached out to touch Ianto’s cheek with the back of his hand. “No,” he murmured, “never too late for that.”

The worry and the despondency had faded, and the spark was clearly back in the Captain’s eyes. He closed the gap between them, sliding his arms around Ianto’s waist and tugging him closer. Ianto smiled as Jack’s lips brushed over his, leaning into the kiss.

“Was this more what you were expecting?” Jack muttered, sliding his hands lower down to cup Ianto’s arse. Ianto parted his lips, and Jack’s tongue slid into his mouth, brushing against the roof and sending a shiver down Ianto’s spine. He leant into the kiss, sliding his arms around Jack and pressing the palms flat against his back, holding him close. Now that he had Jack back, he wasn’t sure how he had ever considered letting him go for a second time. Allowing Jack to walk out on him had been a terrible mistake, coming after him had been the only decision he could have made. 

When Jack pulled away, Ianto was flushed, his lips red and swollen. He raised a hand to wipe them, shooting Jack a small smile. “That’s more like it,” he told him, lacing his fingers through Jack’s. “Come on, I need to say goodbye to Tony before I can go anywhere.”

“You’re really going to come with me?” Jack’s voice hadn’t lost the edge of wariness. It was as if he couldn’t quite trust what he was hearing, and Ianto didn’t blame him. Jack had been dealt a bad hand by life far too many times, and it was reasonable that he doubted the good now. 

Ianto nodded. “I’m coming,” he replied. “I just need to do this first. Then I’m all yours.”

Jack smirked, arching an eyebrow. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ianto replied as he turned to lead the way back through the crowd. Jack’s grip on his hand was tight enough to hurt, but Ianto refused to complain. He had twice let Jack down by leaving, and he wasn’t about to do anything that might damage his hopes a third time. 

Tony was still waiting where Ianto had left him, leaning back in the chair looking completely unruffled by the sequence of events. If Ianto had not been so relieved to have found Jack, he suspected that he would have been slightly annoyed at Tony’s nonchalant attitude. As it was, he simply rolled his eyes at the lack of concern shown: trust Tony to take uncomplicated to the extreme. 

Tony rose as he approached, stepping forward to meet them. “You found him then,” he addressed Ianto, before turning his gaze on Jack. “Good to see you again, Harkness.”

“And you, Stark.” Jack replied, with the smallest of nods. His hand released Ianto’s and shot out to curl around his waist instead. “I hear I have you to thank for this.”

He held out his free hand for Tony to shake.

“Yeah,” Tony replied, “I’m hoping you take better care of him this time.”

He clenched Jack’s hand just a little bit harder than was usual. Ianto could see their knuckles turning white and wondered if he would need to step in. Damn alpha males and their need to be on top all the time. He could see what they had meant now: travelling with the pair of them would have been intense, and probably not in a good way. 

Jack thankfully ignored the barb, but Ianto was wary of the grin that settled on his face even before he spoke. He opened his mouth, preparing to intercede but Jack got there before him. 

“You know,” he said, gesturing at Tony with his free hand. “I’ve just remembered something. Back in the war I knew a guy called Howard Stark. I once spent a wild night with him and a Captain Rogers. He was pretty intelligent too – not a relation of yours was he?”

“That would have been my dad,” Tony replied. Ianto winced, and he glanced sidelong at him. He looked distinctly unimpressed, and Ianto could hardly blame him. He would not have been too happy had their positions been reversed. 

“I thought so,” Jack nodded, his grin turning into a leer.

Ianto read the warning signs and dug his fingers into his ribs sharply, trying to prevent him from saying something completely inappropriate. Jack glanced to him, instantly sobering. 

“In response to your other question, Mr Stark,” Jack added, glancing towards Ianto as he continued. “I intend to take very good care of him this time. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Ianto returned the smile, wriggling free of Jack’s grip so that he could take a step closer to Tony. “Honestly, you two,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re worse than my sister’s kids for squabbling. Last night should have proven that you don’t need to fight over me.”

He took hold of Tony’s hand and pulled him close, close enough to press a kiss against his lips, relishing the feel of his stubble against his jaw, and the rough hands against his skin. It was strange to think that he would miss this in the weeks to come. Tony’s tongue slid into his mouth, brushing against his own and exploring each inch, as if committing it to memory.

“I’m really going to miss you, Ianto Jones,” Tony murmured as he pulled back. “In another time and place, we could have been good together.”

“We were good together,” Ianto replied, but he knew what Tony meant. If it were not for Jack and Pepper, he and Tony would have made a perfect match. They balanced each other well enough, but Ianto had always known that there was something missing. Had he never known Jack, had he never been loved by him, then Ianto would never have even suspected that he was missing anything.

“Thank you,” he added, as he stepped back. “For everything – you offered me a lifeline when I first arrived in America. I really enjoyed working for you and everything else as well. I don’t regret any of it.”

“Good,” Tony replied, “Because there’s nothing to regret.” He leant in to press another brief kiss against Ianto’s lips. “Good luck in space, and with him.” 

He nodded in Jack’s direction. Ianto glanced back over his shoulder to where the Captain was standing trying not to look like he was listening in on the conversation. He caught Ianto’s eye and shot him a grin, an attempt to look like he wasn’t at all worried. 

“I won’t need luck,” Ianto said, hoping that he sounded more confident than he felt. “I’ll have him wrapped around my finger in no time. I’m the one with the coffee, after all.” He sobered and held out a hand, curling his fingers around Tony’s. “I’d wish you luck with Pepper, but I don’t think you’ll need it. She’d have to be mad not to give you a second chance to make things right.”

Tony grinned, but he looked a little pale. Ianto clapped him on the shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort. “If it helps though, I’ll wish it to you. Good luck.” 

Tony smiled and squeezed Ianto’s arm. “You know, if you ever decide to come back, even if it’s just for a visit, then you’ll be more than welcome.” He raised an eyebrow. “I rather suspect that this is goodbye, though.”

“Maybe,” Ianto replied. Then he shook his head. He knew that it would be very unlikely that he would return to earth any time soon. “But just in case I don’t, I’ll say goodbye now.”

He leant in to kiss him, a brief, chaste brush of his lips against Tony’s. It lasted seconds, and it was Tony who stepped back, pulling away from the kiss, from Ianto. His fingers lingered on Ianto’s jaw until the last minute and then his hand dropped to his side. “Goodbye, Ianto Jones. It was good meeting you.”

Without even giving Ianto chance to reply, Tony turned on his heel and strode away through the airport. Ianto watched him go, barely registering Jack’s approach until his hand slid around his waist. Ianto leant into him, watching Tony disappear through the doors that would lead him back to his plane and on to New York and to Pepper. 

He hoped that he was right, and that she would take him back. He hated to think of Tony left alone. Even if he wouldn’t stay that way for long, Ianto would feel no end of guilt. It wouldn’t change his mind; he wouldn’t back out on Jack now – not again.

“About what you said at my apartment,” Ianto said, leaning closer to Jack and glancing up at him.

“Yeah?” Jack replied, the slight hesitation belying his nerves. He had good reason to be nervous too, Ianto knew. Jack had to know that there was only one thing they needed to discuss. It was a potentially hazardous subject too, and no doubt, Ianto assumed that Jack feared that he was going to be let down. Indeed, he looked ready to bolt. He spoke quickly to allay his fears.

He slid his fingers through Jack’s, giving his hand a sharp squeeze. “I just wanted to tell you that the feeling is very much mutual.” He looked at him sharply. “Yes, I love you but that does not mean that all is forgiven.” He turned to Jack, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “You’ve got to make it up to me.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack visibly relaxed, a leer settled onto his face and he arched an eyebrow. “And how, exactly am I going to do that?”

He turned around to face Ianto, bending down to press a kiss against his lips.

“First,” Ianto said, pressing himself flush against Jack’s body, “You can take me somewhere nice. You did promise you’d show me the stars, after all.”

“And after that?” Jack’s voice practically dripped with innuendo. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and his smile widened. Ianto grinned in return. God, he had missed this. He smirked, and leant up to reach Jack’s ear, lips brushing over the lobe.

“That, I’ll leave up to your imagination.”

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters in this work of fiction belong to me. All Torchwood characters, and plot points and dialogue taken from Children of Earth are the property of the BBC. Tony Stark and all other Marvel characters are property of Marvel comics. I am making no profit from this work of fiction. It is purely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others that I have written it.


End file.
